#would Sebastian ever want to play guitar?

[farmerstarter]

The Bachelors on their Wedding Day

Hi Hello have this short list of my little Headcanons of the bachelors on their wedding day. Hope you enjoy it! Reblogs and likes are appreciated!!🌷🤍

ʚ🏈ɞ ˚ · . Alex :

🏈 Fiddles with his tie relentlessly and ends up ruining it. He runs to Evelyn to ask her to tie it up again. The only other thing he fusses over is his hair.

🏈 Alex keeps a rabbit's foot in his pants, wanting all the luck he can get.

🏈 Spent literal days writing his wedding vows. Ends up opting to wing it. It wasn't the most eloquently worded thing you've heard but it was sweet.

🏈 He gave himself a pep talk in his bedroom before the ceremony. You only know about this because George was complaining about how loud he was to you.

🏈 Dusty the dog is the mermaid pendant bearer, I decided.

🏈 Also, the song that plays during the wedding is the same tune from Alex's music box. 🥺

ʚ🪶ɞ ˚ · . Elliott :

🪶Beach wedding. You guys have a beach wedding. You've expressed your interest in one and Elliott, with the eager help of Willy, clean up the beach for your special day. Elliott's shoes would fill with sand but his discomfort is overpowered by his delight when he sees you all dressed up.

🪶 He reads you one (of many) of his poems about you. You later learned that he's got a whole book of poetry about you that he's been writing ever since you two started dating. The poem he read on the wedding day was the very first one and is the first page of the book.

🪶 He spent hours trying to make himself look good. Asking for Leah and Willy's input on what he should wear for a solid 3 hours.

🪶 Aside from him worrying over his appearance, Elliott is more excited than nervous. He's on the verge of creating a new chapter in his life with someone else. Gone are the days of his lonely shack and the empty (well, not as empty since you moved into town) beach. Honestly, to say that he's excited is an understatement.

ʚ🛩️ɞ ˚ · . Harvey :

🛩️ Gets awfully shy when reading his vows, stuttering his way through his words and being a blushing mess. He has no problem with the one-on-one check up sessions he does with the other villagers of Pelican Town, but to read aloud in front of all of them at once threw him off. But he kept his eyes on you and managed to power through it.

🛩️ He considered shaving off his mustache for the wedding at least twice. But he decided against the idea.

🛩️ Insisted that you eat Farmer's Brunch the morning of the wedding. Even during your wedding day, he wants to make sure you're feeling healthy.

🛩️ Holds your hands throughout the whole ceremony. Whispering apologies for how clammy his hands are.

ʚ🎸ɞ ˚ · . Sam :

🎸 He wrote a whole song about you and played it on your wedding day. He made it a surprise for you and the moments of him hiding his guitar and shoving music sheets under his bed when you visit his room were all starting to make sense to you.

🎸 Couldn't sleep for the whole night before the wedding. He worried over the ceremony and wanted to make it go smoothly. He's not one to meticulously plan every detail, opting to engage in spur of the moment decisions, but he tried his best to make everything as close to perfect as he can get.

🎸 Jodi tried to gel Sam's hair back, but no matter the amount of gel and hours, his hair would always spring back. Sam wasn't a fan of dressing up in a "dorky suit" but he did anyway, for you.

🎸 Sam didn't want to see you until the wedding so he got Vincent to play messenger for the two of you. He wouldn't do it at first but only agreed to do it because he likes you (Cue a dramatic gasp from Sam).

ʚ🐸ɞ ˚ · . Sebastian :

🐸 Ends up smiling through the whole ceremony, looking at you with such a brightness in his eyes.

🐸 He isn't one to wear anything fancy. The closest thing he ever wore that is considered formal was the suit that Lewis got him and the rest of the dancers to wear for the Flower Dance. He asks his mom to help him dress up for the wedding, asking her about it while she was building furniture. Sebastian doesn't want to admit it, but he liked watching his mom so happy over something that was so mundane to him. He makes sure to keep the suit in perfect condition throughout the ceremony because of it.

🐸 He tells his very heartfelt wedding vows. And while he does, you could hear the faint "that's good," from Elliott before a grunt, inevitably elbowed on the side by Leah.

🐸 You and him ride on his motorcycle after the wedding. He drives you two to the cliff overlooking the city, the same cliff where he confessed his true feelings to you. Under the full moon, the two of you would look at the stars with Sebastian occasionally pointing at a constellation that Maru taught him to find.

🐸 Consider: winter wedding.

ʚ🐣ɞ ˚ · . Shane :

🐣 Genuinely doesn't believe that you want to marry him. He thinks it's a dream at best and a prank at worst. It wasn't until you were tying his mermaid pendant around his neck for him to know that you do love him. He still has trouble understanding it sometimes.

🐣 Shane asked Marnie to teach him how to waltz for your wedding day. Sure, he's danced in the Flower Dance countless of times but he wanted to learn something new to surprise you. And he did. After dancing with you, he dances with Jas. Well, it's more of Jas standing on Shane's feet while he walks and glides around.

🐣 He gave his chicken, Charlie, a bow tie for the wedding and everything. Even got a picture of you and Shane with the little guy. The picture ends up being hanged on Shane's side of the bedroom for many years to come.

🐣 Has his pocket full of corn chips, let's be honest. He offers one to you before the ceremony starts.

[sorrowsofsilence]

Desolate Love • N.S

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader (oneshot)

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: Angst, angst, angst.

Prompt: His October eyes sang secret confessions as he poured his soul into the melodies of desolate love; but you weren't meant to be sung for, even if you loved each other first.

Authors note: I have never written anything like this publically before, but I'm feeling a little sad and angsty lol. I hope you enjoy the words that came from my heart. (ps. I know many on the taglist are here for smut, and this isn’t smut, but I'm just re-using tags since I'm not sure who enjoys what! Pls let me know if you don't want to be tagged in all things!!)

Tags: @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @gretaswhore28 @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13 @somewhere-diamond @talialovesmiw @auratheopossumwitch @blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @silentglassbreak @darkmxgician

No one talks about the grief of a loss that was never yours to mourn.

He got a tattoo; a constant reminder of the pain.

A reminder of what once was.

A reminder of what would never be.

You wrote unspoken words in your diary, quarrels that would never be said aloud.

Words that confessed years of feelings, years of silenced affections.

As your fingers grazed over the pages of yearning within the leathered journal, your heart reminisced the ache for unattainable amour.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you let out a quiet sob, unsure why you were even crying for someone who was never yours.

He consumed your mind; the way he smiled at you the day you met; his contagious laughter that danced through the walls in grandeur.

“Is this Henderson’s gym class?”

The voice behind startled you, and you turned, meeting a pair of ochre eyes. The stutter that left your lips caused your face to warm in embarrassment, as the messy brunette locks that fell across the boy’s features left you captivated.

“Yeah, I think so?” Your brows furrowed as you second-guessed yourself, even though you double-checked the classroom timetable a thousand times.

His lips spread into a dancing grin, his slight buck teeth chewing playfully on his bottom lip in shyness.

“Cool,” He stuck out his hand, long fingers wrapping around yours, “Noah.”

“Y/N,” You returned the smile, your ears heating as his October gaze never left yours.

You pulled away, briefly glancing down at his shirt, immediately excited.

“You like blink-182?”

Noah looked down at his shirt, pointing at it, “Oh yea, I fucking love them.”

He glanced up at you, fixated, “Do you?”

You nodded excitedly, “They’re probably my favourite band at the moment, other than the 1975, and Oasis, and-” you began to ramble, but stopped, afraid to embarrass yourself anymore than you felt you had.

Something flickered within his eyes at that moment; something you never noticed.

“Wonderwall?” He asked.

A song that became yours.

The burned CD he gave you collected dust in the corner of your room, aged and scratched from years of use. The disk player sat untouched, left as a painful reminder from when the tunes that played were melodies of hope; melodies of elation.

These feelings of grief consumed you, engulfing you into an overwhelming feeling of remorse.

The waves of heartbreak came and left, nostalgia shielding your anguish when memories flooded in.

No one ever filled you with such devotion and desire as he did; and throughout the naivety, you could have sworn it to be love.

It was the way Noah would shout your name from across the room when he saw you, or the way he would cover your eyes, asking you to guess who.

Every time you would laugh, placing your hands on top of his, saying you weren’t sure.

But you knew every time.

His long fingers would twirl your hair when he sat behind you in class, tugging the strands playfully before running his nails over your scalp.

“I just like your hair,” He’d say.

And whenever he picked up his guitar in the band room, he would strum the chords to your song, as if inviting you to listen to his lyrical confessions.

His texts consisted of using silly nicknames, and an overload of emojis to express his feelings. It was over the top, almost as if he was afraid he never came across as genuine enough without them.

Late night conversations went on for hours, laughing at the random stories and memories exchanged through flirtatious banter. You wanted to tell him everything about you, and learn everything about him.

You wanted to know his favourite colour, and what cologne he wore. His goals and dreams intrigued you, his fears and dislikes alluring.

You began to like the things he did, just to have something to talk about. You watched the shows he recommended and googled the things you didn’t know. Anything for him.

Noah would tell you how proud he was of you if you shared an accomplishment, or how pretty you looked when you wore your hair down.

He told you he loved your sneakers, and the way your oversized sweaters engulfed your body.

“You could wear mine,” He said, “You look good in my clothes.”

He would grab your hands, drawing silly pictures in Sharpie. It always left you frustrated when the image of an scribbled smiley face barely faded with each scrub.

But really, you would stare at it in admiration, blushing at the thought of his fingers brushing against yours.

“You like him, don’t you?” Your best friends pried, causing you to flush in embarrassment.

“He doesn’t like me like that,” You sighed, shaking your head, “We’re just friends.”

Just friends don’t play with each others hair like that.

Just friends don’t call each other pretty.

Just friends don’t text each other all night long.

“Is it easier to just pretend?”

Time went on, and your heart fluttered at every smile Noah shared with you, and at every word you exchanged.

The daily good morning and goodnight texts left you melting, succumbing your heart to his as he claimed it for his own.

Deep down, you knew he liked you more than just a friend. The way he treated you was special; there was no way that was how friends treat friends.

N: “Hey, your crush 100% likes you back.”

You: “Uhh hey? How would you know?”

N: “Well, I know who you like.”

You: “I guarantee you don’t.”

N: “Hmm, but I do? And I know he likes you back.”

You: “Sure Noah, haha. Go to bed.”

N: “I’m just saying. He likes you. Goodnight Y/N <3”

With a spiralling mind, your heart hammered.

Did he know how you felt about him? Did he just confess his feelings?

Hope.

It wasn’t until he pulled you into the storage closet a week later, that sorrow knocking down any previous signs of faith.

Torn.

“Y/N, I just wanted to talk… but I know you have feelings for me.”

His eyes bore into your own, sorrowful and sullen.

“Look,” he began, grabbing your hands in his, eyes glancing at your entwined fingers, “I- I just promised myself to someone else. My girl- ex-girlfriend, is coming here, and the reason we broke up was because I transferred.”

He began to ramble, unable to look into your eyes as he confessed his worries. Your heart began to shatter as you forced a small smile. Pulling your hands from his you placed them on his shoulders, causing him to pause.

“Noah,” You said softly, the words leaving your mouth a blatant lie, “It’s ok. I understand.“

His shoulders fell as he watched you. He brought you into a hug, squeezing you against his body, holding onto you.

Ludicrous. Empty.

You cried, your knees held to your chest in comfort as a shield from the feelings of abandonment. How could you be so naive?

You: “Just wanted to say thank you for telling me. I’m sorry if my feelings complicate things, I care about you a lot Noah.”

N: “I’m sorry, for everything. You mean a lot to me, and I care about you. ”

You: “If you knew who I liked all along… why did you say that my crush liked me back?”

It took him almost an hour to respond.

N: “Because I do like you Y/N. I like you a lot… but I promised myself to someone.”

The tears that fell from your face that night left you parched and broken, your world-shattering.

You found someone else a year later. Love that fulfilled your every need, someone to cherish you for you. It was someone who gave you everything; but your mind selfishly always wandered back to him.

You didn’t know that the day he found out you became spoken for, was the day he broke into a million pieces from a whole.

His heart was mutilated, head spinning with uncontrollable thoughts of regret.

How could he have let you slip through his fingers? All for some what-ifs?

He pretended to be happy for you.

Years passed, and you both grew. Both changed, both matured.

You got a ring, and Noah played in a band. You went to every show, you still showed up, even though you knew you were always a second choice.

He watched you the whole time as his fingers traced the strings of the guitar, and your heart yearned for him; screaming and aching and crying that you were just a body in the room.

It wasn’t until he found someone, that you told yourself it wasn’t healthy to fixate on past uncertainties.

It was rare you went to shows now. But when you did, you watched as he stood on that stage and sung; his smile brilliant and just for her.

But then you would meet his gaze, and you knew that the ochre was always for you. Forever yours.

His October eyes sang secret confessions as he poured his soul into the melodies of desolate love.

But you weren’t his: you weren’t mean’t to be sung for.

Some nights you called him drunk. You told him you missed him, that you wanted him to know you think about him all the time.

He told you he missed your voice, and how he wished you two still called.

He said he was happy you found someone to love you, because you deserved to be loved.

You knew he was lying.

It was the last time you talked, until you saw him sitting in the audience as you walked down the aisle, marrying a man you loved. A man who promised himself to you forever. A man who chose you first. A man who was not him.

Noah asked for your hand, he asked you for a dance. Your bodies swayed one last time in a synchronized beat, but just as friends; as desolate lovers.

You never listened to Wonderwall again.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you let out a quiet sob, unsure why you were even crying for someone who was never yours. You were meant to be happy now.

As your fingers grazed over the pages of yearning within the leathered journal, your heart reminisced the ache for unattainable amour.

A reminder of what would never be.

A reminder of what once was.

Noah got a tattoo; a constant reminder of the pain.

No one talks about the grief of a loss that was never yours to mourn.

[silentglassbreak]

if you’re still taking and writing delulu fantasies could i please request one where you meet noah (say you know people working in the scene so you meet them backstage after a show when your friends invite you to spend time with them?).

you’re used to meeting band dudes so it’s nothing but noah tries to appear chill in his pursuit of you. you think he’s cute so you go with it but the most awkward flirtation and cringy smut ensues. (my kink’s an embarrassed noah 😌) thank you so much! <3

Cringey, embarrassed smut? That’s a first for me, and I’m kind of excited LOL. Hopefully this is what you’re looking for!

After Writing Notes: Yaknow, every time I start one of these things, I tell myself I'm going to make it shorter...Anyway, here's 9000 words. Hope you enjoy! Also, huge shoutout to @notyourmomsromancenovel for helping me come up with ideas for cringey smut.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: injury, fainting, smut (in the goofiest way ever)

Beautiful Mistakes

When you pictured Noah Sebastian - front man and lead vocalist in the viral metal-core band Bad Omens - you pictured something way different.

You had been following the band’s work for a while and, like everyone else, had noticed the immediate shift in their persona and presence. You had been a softcore fan of theirs since 2018, and spent many nights on Twitch, playing Elden Ring and listening to his streams as background noise. Sometimes you had been one of the only people in the chat, listening to him produce his beats or record rough vocals. Other times, you sat and chatted with him while he idly played guitar.

Once the pandemic hit full force, there were plenty of nights you sat and talked to Noah, watching the hilarity that ensued. Cat-eared headset on and music playing, Noah would stare at his screen, munching on the Body of Christ and making ridiculous noises.

“Where are my regulars? I need someone to talk to!”

/CrossContaminate/: I’m right here, calm down.

“Hey! Cross is here! I haven’t seen you in a while.”

/CrossContaminate/: I have a job, Noah. You wouldn’t know about that. 😝

“Woooooow…” He pressed a hand to his chest and stared straight into the camera. “That one stung, girl.”

/CrossContaminate/: How do you know I’m a girl? I could be a 50 year old dude, yaknow.

He raised his eyebrows at that. “You’ve got a point. Maybe you should come on video chat with all of us so we can be sure.” He lowered his glasses down on his nose and looked dead into the camera. “For my own safety, of course.”

You cackled loudly at this, typing out your response.

/CrossContaminate/: Nah, I don’t vid chat. You’ll just have to take my word for it.

He rolled his eyes, and smirked. “Same old Cross, I see.”

Noah tried to get you to join video chat regularly often over the years. He had DM'ed you a few times when he saw you were online, wanting to voice call or join a Discord with him, to which you always declined.

You didn’t have a hard and fast rule against chatting online with people via voice or video, you just didn’t do it. Your life was busy and hectic. You didn’t have a ton of time to yourself, so the nights where you got to sit and just not exist in the real world, and only online, it was nice to just remain anonymous.

You had stumbled across Noah’s Twitch by accident once, when looking for something different. His face captured you, however, and once you clicked into it, you were hooked. It wasn’t so much because he was good looking - he was definitely a cutie - but he looked ridiculous.

His hair was long and haphazard. He was wearing an oversized hoodie, drinking cheap wine straight from the bottle, and he was wearing huge bottle cap sunglasses. It was, by far, the goofiest thing you had seen in a long time. He was playing Dead Space, and would jump at the smallest noises, nearly screaming anytime a monster popped into the frame.

But, as all things, time moved on, and he changed. Once the pandemic was waning down, he had began preparing for the release of his next album. The streams became less frequent, and he put his account on a permanent hiatus.

It was a bummer, so you couldn’t help but try keeping track of him on socials. He was decently active on Twitter and Instagram, but even that began to slow down. He had enough followers that your personal account went unnoticed by him.

Aside from his online presence, his appearance also changed pretty dramatically in a very short time. He cut all of his hair off, which, to be entirely honest, broke your heart some. You had always loved the innocence he seemed to maintain by having the long hair. It hurt your feelings to see it go, but you had to admit, the short hair was something else entirely.

Before, Noah typically stuck to regular t-shirts and jeans, simple and timeless rock and roll fashion. Once they started touring for TDOPOM album, you noticed the dramatic change in their stage presence. Ski masks, all black clothing, track pants, and heavy coats. Noah usually ended the set in a black wife-beater top, and you noticed the other change.

He was fucking stacked, now. Noah had always been skinny and long - like a toothpick. Not anymore. His shoulders had broadened, his neck was thicker, and his arms were defined and muscular. That was a change you didn’t mind at all.

What happened? Was second puberty a thing? Because you swore that could be the only explanation for such a drastic difference in Noah in such a short time period.

Although you watched the band from afar, you never had made any time to go see them live, always working anymore. That sucked, because even if you had, it’s not like you’d be able to see him. He was too big of a celebrity now, and you were far from. He likely wouldn’t even remember you, so you never bothered.

As silly as it sounded, it almost hurt your feelings the same as watching an old friend change and grow apart from you over time, even though that wasn’t exactly the case here.

Although, you rationalized that you and him did speak nearly every day for almost two whole years - so it wasn’t that silly, was it?

So you were absolutely floored when your best friend called you, random Friday evening, and asked you for a favor.

“I booked a gig for tomorrow, and I know it’s last minute, but the guy who was supposed to be helping ate some bad sushi or something, and I could desperately use a hand.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes, trying not to be too loud in the Target checkout line.

“It’s my only day off, Iz.”

She huffed. “I know, I know, but I promise it pays really well!”

You growled into the receiver. “Dude, I just did a gig last night, and I have another to do tonight!”

“It’s only four hours! And it pays twelve hundred.”

You were ready to protest, but stopped. “Total?”

“A piece.”

“Fuck, dude. That’s more than double what a normal gig that long pays.”

“I know, that’s why I’m saying, worth the exhaustion.”

You finished scanning your items, pulling your card out to pay. “That kind of money, probably a big band. Who is it?”

“Bad Omens, have you heard of them?”

You stopped, eyes snapping up and fingers stalling at the card reader. “No shit, huh?”

“So, you have heard of them?”

You grabbed your bag, making your way outside. “Yeah, actually. Remember that guy on Twitch I used to talk to?”

“Noah?” It took her a second to put the pieces together, so you stayed silent while she did. “Oh, Noah! As in Noah Sebastian!”

“Bingo.”

“Well shit! Maybe he remembers you!”

You shook your head, taking a long gulp of your iced coffee. “Mm-mm,” You set the drink down. “he never saw my face or heard my voice. Didn’t even know my real name.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep. Only knew me by my tag. He called me ‘Cross’ for short.”

“Ah, okay, so he’ll have no idea who you are!” She laughed at this.

You switched the call to your Bluetooth and sighed. “I guess, since you asked so fucking nicely and I need to pay my rent, I will agree to do the gig with you.”

She squeaked in appreciation. “You’re saving my ass, dude.”

You shrugged. “Pick me up at least two hours before. We need time to prepare.”

“Noon, then?”

“I’ll be ready.”

You and Isobel were known, by the official term in the industry, as Venue Assistants. You were independent contractors who were recommended to acts by the venues, and hired by those bands for specific occasions to help ensure a smooth, easy show. This could mean anything from stocking the green room, switching out instruments, helping with outfit changes, grabbing anything the artists needed. It was an exhausting job, and you had been doing it for about five years now. As tiring as it was, it paid well, and it was a lot of fun. You had the opportunity to meet some of the best bands in the industry - and some of the worst. You had more stories to tell than anyone, and you wouldn’t change careers if you were paid to.

At the venue the following day, you had received word from the stage director that the band was running behind, and they needed you both to grab food and coffees for all of them. Typically, you’d roll your eyes at this, but you didn’t immediately, as you knew life happened, and it could’ve happened for a lot of reasons. You had gone and grabbed the guys their Chinese food while Iz picked up the Starbucks order, and arrived back at the theater just before the band did.

They came in, all looking rather tired and irritated. Noah was the last to enter, baseball hat on his head and wearing basketball shorts under his large hoodie.

“All I’m saying is, I don’t know how you had no idea the window would break.” The man who you recognized to be Jolly was still lecturing Noah as they came in, dropping their bags down.

You and Isobel were in the back of the room, speaking with the crew who were preparing to bring in the instruments and equipment. You planned to help unload it all, so you were listening to the stage director instruct them on where to place everything.

“It was a stress ball! Why would I think it would break the window?!”

“Because it was hard?” Folio piped up as he sat down, tearing into the food.

“Look, it’s not a huge deal. Safelite said they can have it fixed before tomorrow. It’ll be fine!”

You shook your head, sincerely wondering what the hell they were talking about. Your attention, however, was pulled back to Isobel. You followed her out to the truck where the loading ramp was being pulled down.

“You going to talk to him?” She asked as she began pulling a mic stand out. You grabbed one of the smaller amps, and followed her back to the delivery door.

“Probably not. We’ve got a lot to do.”

“I mean,” She set the stand down and looked over to where the band sat, apparently still arguing amongst themselves, and looked back at you. “you could go talk to him now? I can unload this with the guys.”

“I need to earn my paycheck too, Iz.”

“Why don’t you want to talk to him?”

You stopped walking away, turning to look at her. “I never said that.”

“So go talk to him? He’s just a guy.”

You sighed, narrowing your eyes at her. “Fine, I will.”

Stomping back toward the couches of the green room, you heard her laugh behind you. It wasn’t any big deal, you didn’t see why she was bugging you about this. You inhaled a big breath, and walked straight up to the group, noticing they were all now sat and eating.

“Hey guys.” You waved a hand at them. “I don’t mean to bug you while you’re eating. I just wanted to introduce myself. I’ll be one of your VA’s for the evening. If you need anything at all, or have any preferences I should be aware of, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

They all set their food down and stood, pushing their hands out for you to shake. You took each one gracefully, hearing them tell you their names, which you already knew.

The last to introduce himself was Noah, who, while leaning over the table to take your grasp, knocked a bottle of soy sauce down, causing you to jump back. It was too late, and your dark blue jeans had black splatter on them.

“Fuck! I’m so sorry!”

You grabbed a napkin and patted at the spots quickly, waving. “No, it’s okay. It shouldn’t stain.” Hopefully.

Nicholas grabbed a roll of paper towels from the back table and cleaned it up quickly, smiling sheepishly at you. “You’ll have to excuse Noah. He’s as clumsy as they come.”

Noah smacked a hand at his shoulder. “Not true, dick.” He looked back up at you apologetically. “Again, I’m so sorry.”

Moving around the table to approach him, you took his hand. “It’s really no problem.”

“I didn’t catch your name?” You gave it to him, and he smiled brightly at you. “That’s different?”

Smirking, you nodded. “It is. You can just call me Cross.”

For a second, you weren’t sure he was going to get it. His hand continued shaking yours for an unnecessarily long time while his brow furrowed, staring at you. After a moment, he cocked his head to the side.

“Cross…” He strung the word out on his tongue. “As in…” You could actually see the light bulb go off behind his eyes, and they popped open wide.

“Oh shit!” His hand let go of yours, and suddenly he was grabbing you by the forearms, startling you a bit. “No fucking way!”

He was smiling way bigger than you expected, but in that smile, you saw that same goofy guy that used to sit with you for hours, chatting online and dicking around.

“I wasn’t sure you’d remember.” You grinned back at him, trying to push down the little bit of butterflies that started trying to scoot their way into your chest.

You noticed how his face fell just slightly when you said it, likely remembering quite how long it had been. “Of course I remember.” His voice was even, but he still looked enthused.

“Well, it’s good to finally meet you.”

He looked up and down at you, taking a step back for effect. “Yeah, same here. I guess you aren’t a fifty year old dude after all.”

Your face flushed at that, and you shook your head. “Nope. Sorry to disappoint.”

“Care to introduce?” Jolly stood behind you, and you turned to see him stand with a raised eyebrow.

Noah took the initiative to push you slightly toward the rest of the band.

“You guys remember when I used to stream all the time? And I had that one chick who used to join every day and chat with me for hours? She was the one who used to tell people I was a Billie Eilish fan page.” He looked down at you with an eyebrow raised, and you broke out in hard laughter.

“Well, you practically were, Noah!”

He shook his head, turning to tower over you. “I was not! I just like her music!”

Folio stood up, smiling wide. “Oh, dude I remember that! Didn’t she hack into your account and change your profile photo and everything?”

Noah glared down at you, which caused a whole new fit of giggles to erupt.

“What?! It got you more subs!”

He rolled his eyes and pulled your arm, moving you to sit on the couch next to him.

“How have you been?” He shoved a mouthful of chow mein and spoke around his food. “I know it’s been a while, I’m sorry.”

You just shook your head. “No need to apologize. You’ve been busy.”

He beamed at that. “Have you heard the new album?”

“I have. It’s really great.”

“You think? I appreciate that.”

You sat back, watching how he inhaled the food in front of him. “Also, I’ve been good. Also keeping busy.”

Wiping his mouth on a napkin, he nodded. “This is what you do? Full time?”

“Yeah, been doing it a while. I like it.”

He leaned back also, arms falling into his lap. The other guys had began to disperse, heading to different parts of the building to begin their preparations.

"That's cool."

The conversation fell silent between you both, and you cleared your throat. "Well, it's really good to see you, Noah."

He affirmed with a nod, chewing on his lip. "I feel bad for not keeping in touch."

"Oh stop. You had no way to reach me other than Twitch."

"That's true. I don't have social media anymore, either." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Yeah, I saw that."

The quiet was strange and uncomfortable, and you decided not to stall your job any longer. "Well, I'd better get back to work."

He stood too, bumping into your shoulder as he did, nearly knocking you back into the couch. Instantly, his hand reached out to grab you.

"Shit!" He exclaimed, and in his attempt to hook your arm, his hand missed, and grabbed a full hand of your right breast.

A sharp gasp tumbled out of you, and he pulled his hand back with haste, causing you to lose your balance again, and fall backward, the back of your head smacking the arm of the couch.

"Damn it!" He crouched down to grab you, but your hand came up in front of you.

"Uhm," You squeezed your eyes closed, clearing the spots that formed in your vision. "I got it."

Sitting up, you rubbed at the back of your head. He sat down again, keeping about a foot of distance between you.

"I'm so fucking sorry."

Your eyes opened, seeing the look of absolute shame and guilt painted on his face. It was comical.

What a fucking doofus.

"Noah," You turned your head back and forth to assess if your neck was injured. It wasn't. "I think your clumsiness is spreading."

His face fell in his hands. "I'm so sorry." He apologized again, groaning loudly. "I don't know what's wrong with me today!"

"Everyone has off days." You assured, taking a moment before you stood back up.

"Not like today. I broke a window in the tour bus this morning, that's why we were late."

Your mouth fell open. "You broke the window?"

"I didn't mean to! I had one of those squishy stress-ball things? It was real firm, cause it was new. So I was trying to soften it up by squeezing it, and I thought, maybe if I bounced it a few times, it would get softer..."

Your eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "You didn't..."

"I just tossed it gently and the fucking thing broke a hole clean out of the window!"

Maybe it was the near-concussion or the obscenity of it all, but a guttural laughter came out of you, making you fall back onto the couch clutching your sides.

"It's not funny!" Noah tried to argue, but ended up laughing with you, his bravado deflating.

"Ah, Noah," You wiped the tears spilling from your eyes. "you really haven't changed."

After your unfortunate accident earlier, Noah had insisted on exchanging numbers with you, so he could check in and make sure you were okay throughout the night. This was after he failed to convince you to go get checked out at an ER, and swore him to not tell anyone what happened. The last thing you needed was an incident in the workplace.

Noah was half an hour from going onstage, and you were on the side stage, checking the battery level of all of the microphones. Your phone buzzed in your back pocket and you rolled your eyes. It had been nearly constant for the last three hours.

Noah: Checking in. How's the head?

You sighed, typing a quick response.

You: Same as it was twenty minutes ago - normal.

Noah: Any pain?

You: No.

That wasn't entirely true. You had a dull throbbing at the base of your skull, but you were doing a great job of ignoring it.

Noah: Okay. Where are you?

You: Stage left. I'm covering you and Folio tonight, so I'm checking the mics and making sure all your stuff is ready.

Noah: Cool. Need any help?

You: Shouldn't you be getting ready?

Noah: Yeah, probably.

You snickered, staring at your screen before sending the next message.

You: If I didn't know better, I'd think you concussed me just to ask me for my number.

It was stupid, but you couldn't help but fuck with him a little bit. His response came quickly.

Noah: Maybe I did. ;P

You scowled down at the phone. What the hell?

His type bubble appeared quickly, another message coming in.

Noah: Wait, that sounded creepy. I'm kidding, I swear.

You: Suuuuuuure

He read that message, but didn't respond. You had definitely caught him a little off-guard and it made you laugh. You stared down at the winking face emoji, and it dawned on you that he was flirting with you. You visibly shivered, somewhat stunned.

Noah Sebastian was tall, dark, and sexy in almost every video and interview you had watched of him since he went dark over a year ago...but inside, it appeared he was still just as dorky and uncoordinated as you always knew him to be. You didn't realize it was quite this bad, however.

And not only was he clumsy, he was bad at flirting too...

You shook off the feeling, trying your hardest not to smile at the thought. Despite the ickiness of it all, you were flattered. He may be kind of Scooby-Doo-ish, but he was handsome, and talented. He also had a soft, deep side of him that you had the pleasure of seeing on more than one occasion.

Maybe he was just nervous? Maybe you could just go with it and see how it turned out?

You resolved to push it to the back of your mind for the time being, placing yourself back into your professional work mindset as the show began.

Noah was entirely different on stage, completely in control and flowing effortlessly through the songs. He looked like an entirely different person out there. He would pop back to the sides here and there to get some water, switch out his mic, or wipe the sweat from his face. Each time, he'd give you a look of concern, and ask about your head again. You would just shush him and push him back out onto the stage.

You were also covering Folio, who was up on the riser, beating away at his drum set. The stairs you had to climb were tall, and after the third trip up here, you felt the room tilt like it was turning on it's side. You held the railing, catching Folio's eye as the darkened room began lighting up again.

He mouthed at you a quick 'You good?' and you just nodded, throwing him a thumbs up, and heading back down the stairs. Noah was stood, gulping his water, and staring at you.

"I saw that. What's wrong?"

You shook your head. "Nothing, go, the next song is starting."

He pressed a hand into your shoulder, now looking much more stern than worried. "I don't care. Are you okay?"

Still trying to brush it off, you grabbed hold of his arm, trying to push him away. It didn't occur to you that it was also instinctive, as your feet were starting to feel a little numb. "Noah, you don't have time for this."

He stood square in front of you, eyebrows raised and arms crossed over his chest.

"Are. You. Okay?" He enunciated each word, but he suddenly started to look so much taller than he did a second ago. And when did he become so fuzzy?

Your hand squeezed where it was hooked onto his bicep in an attempt to stop the inevitable, but, unfortunately, before he could manage to reach for you, the room went dark.

Your eyes cracked open, a harsh light shining in them, and you squinted against it.

"Hey, you with us?" A blonde man you didn't recognize stared down at you, a stethoscope around his neck and gloves on his hands.

A paramedic. Amazing.

When you looked around, you realized you were on a gurney, sitting in the back of an ambulance with the doors open, in the parking lot of the venue. It was the paramedic that was on call at the theater that night.

"Ugh, no fucking way." You tried to sit up, but a hand pressed onto your shoulder. You shifted your eyes to see Isobel sitting on the bench next to the stretcher. "Iz? What happened?"

The EMT spoke for her, putting his light back in his shirt pocket, and began moving his fingers back and forth in front of your face for you to follow.

"Well, you passed out, and cracked your head on the floor pretty good." You squeezed your eyes closed in frustration. "Big guy in there told us you hit your head earlier, too? That's probably what caused you to faint."

Yeah. Big, dumb, gargantuan guy.

"My head hurts." You winced as the medic turned your neck, checking your range of motion.

"I'm sure it does. You're all intact, it appears, but given that this was the second impact today, I strongly suggest going to the ER to get a scan."

You rolled your eyes, trying again to sit up. "I don't think-"

Isobel cut you off. "We're going."

The EMT nodded, and reached to begin shutting the doors. Admitting defeat, you carefully laid your head back down. The vehicle started moving and you let out a hard breath.

"We're so not getting paid for tonight."

Iz laughed, shaking her head. "I think it'll be fine. Noah was in a near panic attack when he moved you to the couch. Kept saying it was all his fault."

You snickered. "Kind of is."

"He wanted to cancel the rest of the show, but I told him you'd have a full stroke if he did that because of you."

Your eyes popped open, and you tried to sit up. "He didn't do that, did he?!"

The EMT pressed you back down. "Easy, easy."

Isobel patted your shoulder. "No, he didn't."

You melted back onto the bed. "Oh thank fuck for that."

The ride to the Emergency Room was short, and the nurses made quick work of getting you into a rollable bed and carting you off to get a CT scan of your head and neck. That was mundane, but they had given you something decent for the pain, so it wasn't so bad. You hummed to yourself as you were rolled back to your room, and Isobel was missing. You whipped your head around, looking to see if she was anywhere to be found, but a voice came from the opposite side.

"She went to get a snack."

Noah stood by the doorway, hands in the pockets of his cargo pants, white t-shirt on, and a beanie over his hair. He had cleaned up since the show, you could tell.

"The show is over already?"

He huffed out a laugh, stepping over to the end of your bed. "Yeah, for a little while now. You've been at the hospital for two hours."

You raised your eyebrows, but it didn't phase you too much. "Time flies when you're on morphine, I suppose."

His hands gripped the rails at the end of the bed. "How you doing?"

You nodded, sinking against the mattress. "I mean, I've been better, but I've been worse."

He lifted an eyebrow at you, and moved to perch himself on the very edge of the end of the bed. "Yeah? That's...better than nothing?"

You nodded, looking him up and down. He looked more like himself in this outfit, and you liked it. It felt more genuine.

"How did the rest of the show go?"

He shrugged his shoulders, hands still in his pockets. "Good, I guess. I was stressed, so I felt like I kind of rushed through it."

You brought your arms up behind your head, getting comfortable. "You shouldn't have. I'm good."

Noah deadpanned at you. "Obviously you weren't. You should've gone to the hospital earlier."

You scoffed. "Oh well. Doesn't matter now."

He was leaned over, his shoulder pulled in and he looked nervous.

"What's wrong?"

"What?" He looked bewildered.

"You look upset or something?"

He snickered, readjusting his feet on the floor. "Well, I gave you a concussion, couldn't convince you to get checked out and agreed not to tell anyone, which led to you getting an even worse concussion, and you're now potentially bleeding into your brain... That's probably got something to do with it."

You waved a hand at him. "Details. It's not a big deal."

He shook his head, looking at the wall adjacent from him and not at you. "This is not how I pictured us getting to meet."

This interested you, so you probed. "You pictured us meeting?"

He smirked. "We talked for a couple years, Cross. Of course I did."

"And how was that supposed to go?" High or not, you were curious.

He chuckled, still not looking at you. "Not like this."

You rolled your eyes. "Well, duh. But what did you expect?"

"I don't know. Something normal? Hanging at a movie or getting food? Like normal people?"

You cackled. "Well, you're not normal, Noah."

"Clearly." He said through grit teeth.

Leaning back again, you relaxed, and pursed your lips. "Were you trying to flirt with me earlier?"

You could tell this caught him by surprise, as he began looking nervous again. "What do you mean?"

"Well, either your were trying to flirt, or you actually gave me a concussion just to get my phone number."

He bit back a laugh, looking at you sheepishly. "Yeah, no that wasn't on purpose. Just a bad joke."

"Well, you could've just asked for my number, is all I'm saying."

He shook with soft laughter. "Noted." He stood then, turning toward the doorway where Isobel could be seen coming down the hallway. "Well, I mostly wanted to make sure you were okay. I should go."

Something about that didn't feel right to you, and you sat up a little quickly, your brain sloshing slightly in your skull, but you ignored it.

"You're leaving?" In your inebriated mind, you pictured yourself looking silly and desperate, but your logic knew that likely was just the drugs talking.

“Yeah, well, you don’t need a disaster magnet hanging around.” He said looking timid.

Isobel had joined you back in the bedroom, and was turning to look between the both of you.

“Everything okay?” She stared at Noah, and he reached a hand to palm the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I was just getting ready to head out.”

Your mouth moved before you could stop it. “No he wasn’t.”

Both of their heads snapped to look up at you, and he looked so puzzled. “No?”

You shook your head, soft smile adorning your face. “No, not unless you have somewhere to be.”

Isobel picked up on the tension in the room and made a show to look at her smart watch.

“Oh damn, look at that, I’m getting a call. Be right back.”

She slipped from the room and Noah focused his stare back on you.

“You want me to stay?”

You nodded, crossing your legs in front of you and sitting straight.

“That could be hazardous, you know?” He joked, but rounded back around by the bed, sitting a little closer to you on the edge.

“I don’t care.”

It took what felt like forever for the doctor to finally enter the room, interrupting yours and Noah’s game of hot hands you were playing while Iz sat in a chair on the side, chatting idly about the next gig she had booked for Motionless in White.

“Ah, I see your coordination is no issue.” The doctor spoke right as your hand came down to slap the back of Noah’s hard, forcing him to pull away hastily and hiss in pain.

You giggled, and turned to face the physician. “How’s my head?” He looked down at his paperwork, nodding in approval. Noah moved off the bed so the doctor could come around and shine a light at your eyes for the hundredth time.

“Looks good. No bleeds, no fractures. You shouldn’t have any lasting side effects aside from some headaches for a few days.” You smiled and glanced at Noah, seeing the physical relief he breathed out.

“You need to follow up with a neurologist in one week, and you need to stay in bed for at least five days.”

You grunted in disapproval. “That sucks.”

He sucked his teeth. “I know, but it’s just a precaution. Do you live with someone? Parents? Roommate? Boyfriend?”

If Noah were a dog, his ears would have been perking at that last word.

You shook your head. “Just me.”

He shrugged. “I don’t like the idea of you being alone. Can you stay with someone until you can go to the neurologist?”

I sunk down. “Not really? I have a cat that needs to be looked after.”

“I can come stay with you.” Isobel spoke up from her side of the bed, and I smiled at her appreciatively.

“Okay, good. I think I can get you out of here, then. No blood thinners for a few days, just Tylenol for pain. You experience any odd symptoms or pain that’s unbearable, you come straight back, yes?”

You nodded, and he smiled.

“Great, I’ll put in for the discharge.”

You turned to look at her, reaching out for her to take your hand. “You didn’t have to do that, Iz.”

She smirked. “Someone has to.”

You laughed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Can we just stop by my place? I’ve got a couple things I need to do, it’ll take a couple hours, probably. Or I can drop you off and head back over?”

“She shouldn’t be alone, though, right?” Noah piped up from where he stood on the opposing side of the bed.

You sighed. “I’m so tired though. I want to go home and get in my sweats.”

He pursed his lips, mind working while looking at your face, before glancing back up to Isobel.

“Why don’t I take her home, and I can hang with her till you get there? That way you can do what you need to, but she can go home and get comfortable?”

Isobel eyed you, wanting to hear your thoughts on it before she answered. You just shrugged in response, and she slowly tore her eyes off of you to look back at Noah.

“Alright, but be careful driving her home.” She smiled in a patronizing fashion. “You can understand my hesitation after today.”

He clenched his jaw, knowing exactly what she meant, and looked back down at you. You felt your cheeks heat up under his gaze.

His eyes fell back to Iz, that sternness returning in his tone.

“I‘ll be careful.”

The drive back to your apartment was silent, the air hanging with uncertainty. The only sound above the whir of the motor was you giving directions to your place, and Noah humming his understanding.

It took until you were over halfway there for him to look at you, eyes looking sad.

“Feel like the morphine’s wearing off?”

You were rubbing at your temples, and you snorted. “How could you tell?”

He smirked. “I’m so sorry.”

You groaned. “Noah, if you apologize one more time, I’m going to slap you.”

He sucked his lips in and looked back out the windshield.

“It wasn’t your fault, it happens.”

His knuckles flexed on the steering wheel and he inhaled a long breath. "It's actually, technically, one hundred percent my fault." He admitted, gritting his teeth.

He pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex, and his vehicle came to a stop just outside of your building.

"I don't suppose you live on the first floor?" He chanced, but you shook your head.

"Third." He looked like he was about to start stressing, but you smiled. "There's an elevator."

This made him relax back in his seat before he stepped out, moving quickly to your side and letting you out.

He carried your bag and sweater in his arms as you led up to the elevator, and down the hall to your small one-bedroom apartment. Once inside, your white, short-haired cat bound up to you both, meowing with fervor.

Noah looked down at her, and back up to you. You reached down and scooped up her small body with one hand, holding her to your chest.

"Noah, this is Narcissa."

He smiled, petting her head with one finger, which she accepted graciously.

"She's probably starving, I'd better feed her." Before you could move toward the kitchen, he put a hand on your arm.

"Let me. Where's her food?"

You pointed him in the right direction, taking the moment to head into your bedroom, kicking your shoes off and reaching for a t-shirt from the closet and a pair of shorts from the drawer of your long dresser. He appeared in the doorway right after you had slipped the shirt over your head, and he leaned against the frame.

"She's fed. Anything I can get you?"

You panned around the room, thinking for a moment. "I've got some chips and salsa in the kitchen. Chips in the pantry and salsa in the fridge. Want to grab it and meet me in the living room?"

He nodded, heading to complete his task. You padded over to the couch, dropping down onto the soft cushions, and pulled your sofa blanket over you. He joined you after a moment, setting the food on the coffee table, your phone next to it.

"Thought you'd want that."

He sat and watched the television as you flipped through Hulu, looking for something to watch. You could feel how uncomfortable he was, trying so hard to keep a wide distance from you, likely so as not to hurt you.

"Noah?"

He looked over, eyebrows raised. "Hmm?"

You made a show of relaxing back on the couch, and motioned for him to do the same. "Take a breath. I'm fine."

He tried, leaning back and exhaling loudly. "You okay with Evil Dead? It's one of my favorites."

"Sure. I've seen it a couple times."

You sat back, now munching on some chips, and offered him the bag. He grabbed some, crunching on them loudly.

The movie played, but you could feel how, as he finally did begin to relax, he was moving somewhat closer to you. It was fascinating. He wasn't doing it on purpose, it was almost as if he was a magnet, and you were the pole it attached to.

"Can I ask you a question?" He looked over at you, listening. "Why did you go dark?"

You could see he was baffled by the so off-topic ask, and he took a moment to gather his thoughts.

"Uh," He looked back at you. "A lot of reasons, really."

"Mm." You nodded, setting the chips back on the table. "Why did you go dark on me?"

This caught his complete attention, and his body turned to face you. "What?"

"You didn't even say bye or anything. You just...stopped coming online. And I had no way to reach out."

He furrowed his brow. "I'm a little surprised you wanted to, Cross."

"Why?"

He made a noise that sounded nearly annoyed. "Well, you never wanted to talk on a call. You never showed your face. You wouldn't even tell me your real name."

Guilt sunk in to your gut, reminding you that he was absolutely right.

"I just figured you weren't interested in maintaining the friendship beyond what it was, so I didn't think about it."

You nodded, understanding. There was nothing wrong with it, but it still sort of hurt your feelings.

"I get it. I was just curious."

"Why didn't you ever reach out?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but had to stop, because you realized...you didn't know. There wasn't a clear, concise reason why. Maybe you liked the idea of Noah being just an idea? A friend? Someone who didn't know you, and all that came with? Maybe it made it easier to feel safe talking to him?

He noticed you were uncomfortable with the conversation, and waved it off. "It doesn't matter now."

You had to agree with that. It wasn't going to change anything.

"Well, let's just watch the movie and you can rest."

You leaned back on the couch, and it wasn't lost on you that Noah was slowly scooting closer still, only now, you were pretty sure he was doing it on purpose. The room felt warm, and you adjusted under the blanket to kick a leg out, it being pressed against his. His eyes darted down to where you had touched him, and back up to your face. You kept your eyes straight ahead, smirking at the situation.

He leaned forward, pulling his beanie off and running his hand through his hair. "Is it warm in here?"

You smiled, just dropping your shoulders. He leaned back, and tried so desperately to smoothly slip an arm on the back of the couch, stretching at the same time.

He wasn't actually doing this, was he?

He was adorable, despite how absolutely ridiculous he was. He was nervous, and you knew that, but you worked overtime to hide your amusement, just shifting so you were pressed into his side.

His hand hesitated on the back of the couch, twitching as if he wanted to just wrap it around your shoulders, your head now resting on his chest.

You sighed loudly. "Noah, just put your arm around me."

"Yup." He gripped you, and adjusted to curl into him closer, leg falling over his. You giggled at him, and he pressed his face into the top of your head, embarrassed. "Clearly, I'm not good at this."

The movie played on, and at the scarier parts, you gripped his shirt tightly. You weren't very spooked, but it was what you did when snuggling on the couch with a cute boy, so you just went with it.

"Cross?" His voice was small, and you pressed in closer to hear him better.

"Hmm?"

"I really want to kiss you, but I'm kind of," He cleared his throat. "afraid?"

You scrunched up your nose and lifted your face to look at him. "Afraid?" His eyes were so big and doe-like, it pulled at something in your chest.

"Yeah, after all that's happened today? What if I miss and...I don't know...break your nose, or something?"

It took a second, but your face broke out in a large grin and you started laughing like a hyena. It was so absurd.

"What?!"

You had to take a breath, the ache in your head beginning to throb a little harder with your labored breathing. "I'm sorry!" You squeaked out, trying to contain yourself.

"Is it that hard to believe?"

You shook your head. "It's not." You could barely hold the giggles in. "That's why it's so funny."

He narrowed his eyes, pulling his arm from where it was wrapped around your back, but you pushed in closer, finally halting your laughing and looked at him.

"Noah," You lifted one hand to press your palm against his cheek. "if you want to kiss me, just do it."

His eyes flipped between both of yours, considering, before he leaned in and you closed your eyes.

Problem is, so did he...

His top teeth collided into yours making a harsh clacking sound, and causing you both to pull away hastily.

"God damn it!" His hand pressed into his gums, and he stared at you. "Are you okay?" You were laughing again, and he growled. "Maybe we should just not even try."

The tears in your eyes glistened, making him look glittery in your vision, and you just smiled brightly at him.

"Fucking hell, Noah."

You lifted yourself up, grabbing his face, and pressing your mouth to his, this time without incident. Your lips molded to his, and you felt him let out a breath he had been holding. His hands cautiously grabbed you, gently moving you to position so you straddled him, lips not disconnecting as he did.

Your hands gripped his hair, pulling his head back and exposing his neck. Your lips went to work laying featherlike kisses on the soft skin when you heard his voice.

"Uhm, Cross?" He was out of breath, and his chest was heaving. "We probably shouldn't do anything too crazy, on account of the concussion." His voice sounded unconvinced, but still, you pulled back, raising an eyebrow at him.

"My brain is fine. Now, let me have some fun, for fucking once."

His fingers dug into your sides, and your tongue was tracing his tattoos on the side of his throat.

"B-But, I really don't know if we should. The doctor said-"

You pulled back again, this time becoming annoyed. "The doctor said I needed to stay in bed. This counts."

"Okay, but, what if it makes it worse?"

You deflated a bit, hands falling down onto your lap. "Do you not want to do this?" Your voice had cracked just slightly, and you silently cursed yourself for it.

His eyes bulged, and he grabbed you harder. "No, I do! I really, really do. I just don't want to hurt you."

Even with the concern and empathy in his voice, you couldn't help but grind down onto his hips, noticing his pants were significantly tighter, and pull a moan straight out of his chest.

"You won't Noah. At least, not in a bad way." You wiggled your brows at him and gripped the sides of his neck.

He looked confused. "Is there a good way?" Incredulously, you dropped your forehead on his chest, his mind catching up a second later. "Oh! Oh right! Sorry, I don't know where my mind is right now."

You just kissed him again, tired of talking - or whatever that was - about it. Noah lifted his hips to push into you, which was the first thing he had done right all evening. You felt his erection beneath the layers of fabric between you, the friction delicious against your crotch. This time, he began placing soft kisses on your neck, barely touching the skin and teasing you.

His fingers loosened around your hips and wandered up to your shirt, slipping underneath and goosebumps rose on your skin where he touched. His hands found your breasts and took them in handfuls.

You couldn't help but giggle at the memory that flashed through your head, which caused him to look up at you.

"What?"

You smiled down at him. "Nothing, it's just that you grabbed my chest earlier when you tried to catch me. I was just thinking, I like this better."

He sighed, his head falling back. "I was hoping you hadn't noticed that."

You kissed him again, pressing back down on him, and regaining his attention.

"Noah?" His eyes looked at yours, his body now rhythmically pressing into you. "Fuck me? Please?"

You didn't mean to sound quite so needy, but it just came out that way. You were aching so bad for it, and you felt as if he didn't slip inside you soon, you may explode.

His eyes darkened, and he smiled back at you, his arms flexing around your waist and lifting you gently to lay you down on the couch. Hands making quick work of your shorts, pulling them off and staring at you. You may have forgotten to put panties on when you changed earlier, so he was marveling at the sight in front of him.

His tongue darted out to lick his lips before he pulled his own pants and boxers down, exposing his cock. You were impressed. Where Noah lacked grace and technique, he made up elsewhere. He slipped his hand into his pocket, fishing his wallet out. He located the condom quickly and applied it, giving himself a few long strokes as his free hand slid down your stomach, fingertips running through your folds for a second.

"You're sure it won't hurt you?" His mouth was hung open, and you rolled your eyes in response.

You reached your arms up, grabbing at him and pulling him down toward you. He fell forward with you, and his hand came down hard on the edge of the coffee table by mistake. He pulled it back, yelping.

"Fuck!" He shook out his hand, and you grabbed his face, forcing him to look at you.

"It's okay. Just look at me." Doing as he was told, his dick pressed against your entrance, nudging for approval.

You rocked your hips up, assisting him as he slipped partially inside of you. The stretch burned incredibly, your eyes rolling back with it.

"Oh, wow." Your words were just breaths, arms wrapping around his neck. "T-That's...wow."

Noah's hips pulled back before snapping forward, driving into you with force. Your body shook with the feeling, clenching down around him. His lips were pressing kisses into the skin on your jaw and collarbone, adding to the lovely sensation.

"Holy fuck, Noah." You lifted your legs to lock around his waist, pushing your hips up. "Harder."

He rammed your body into the cushions, the back of the couch smacking the wall loudly.

"J-Jesus. So good." His words were so quiet, you almost didn't hear. His face was buried in your neck, sweat forming in his hair. "You're so tight."

His whispers were pushing you off the edge. "Ugh, keep talking to me." Your hands gripped his hair, pulling at the roots.

"Fucking can't take it, it's so good. So perfect. So wet." He was railing you so hard, you felt as though you may cry from the sensation. "Just want to stay buried inside you all night, baby."

His words came out so softly, so soothingly that you let your body relax and let go, orgasm ready to tip.

That is, until...

"Ow..." It was almost silent. "Oww..." That was louder. "Ow! Ouch! Fuck!" He sat up suddenly, falling back on the couch.

You sat up, your head still spinning. "What's wrong?!" Your hands wandered over him, but he lifted his leg up on the couch, gripping his calf.

"Fucking leg cramp." His fingers pressed into the visibly tight muscle, and you fell backward, orgasm officially lost.

"I'm sorry!" He tried to reach for you, but you lifted your head, shooting him a warning glance. He pulled back, face turning a deep shade of red.

His cock, however, was stood at full attention still.

Rolling your tongue around in your mouth, you swung your legs off the couch and stood. You pointed to the cushions, and demanded him. "Lay down."

Without hesitation, he did as he was told, laying flat on his back, and stared at you longingly.

Wasting no time, you sat down, sliding onto him with ease now that you'd had a chance to adjust. The angle made you feel so full, so satiated. You let out a long, comfortable moan.

His hands grabbed you, and you began to rock back and forth, begging to chase that lost climax. He peered up at you through half-masked lids, fingers gripping your thighs now.

"Is that better, baby?" You nodded, fingernails scratching down his chest. "Going to come this way? Make a mess all over me?"

Just like Noah was on stage, when he was fucking, he liked to be in control. He was good at it, too.

You nodded, pressing your clit into the skin of his pubic bone. The friction combined with the pressure he was putting on that spot inside you had your thrusts more erratic.

"Can't last like this, honey. You're going to make me come if you keep riding me so fucking good."

His hips were rocking up into you, finding the wave you were riding and helping it wash over you.

"Noah..." You whimpered, hands digging into the skin of his sides. "I'm going to come."

"Yeah, baby, come for me."

His voice, so deep, raspy, sultry, shoved you over that edge, your body slowing down and spasming around him. His hips only had to buck up two more times before he was groaning, leaving fingerprint bruises in your thighs.

You both stayed still, breathing heavily, staring at each other. A grin creeped up onto your face slowly, a matching expression on his.

Both lost in your own universe, neither of you had heard the front door unlocking...

"Hey! I got finished quicker than I expected, so I-"

Both of your heads whipped to the front door, where Isobel had stepped in, duffel bag on her arm and food bags in the other.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" She turn around, covering her eyes with her hand. "What the fuck!"

You and Noah promptly jumped together, scrambling to right yourselves. He pulled at his pants that were still wrapped around his ankles, and you grabbed the blanket from the couch. He sat upright on the sofa, and you pressed against him, pulling the blanket over yourself.

Mortified, you both waited for her to turn around, which she did, eventually.

"Sorry about that, Iz." You said as you interlaced your fingers with Noah's, who was using his other hand to fully cover his face in humiliation.

"Not what I was expecting to see today!" She squealed, walking past the couch toward the kitchen. "I have food, you fucking pervs."

Once she had left the living room, you and Noah looked up at each other, both blushing furiously at having been caught in the act.

Even with the added mishap, you both broke out into large, shining smiles, laughing at the situation.

What a fucking doofus.

[the-90s-music-colosseum]

Round 4 Match 4

propaganda below the cut! (massive wall of text warning)

Miki Berenyi:

"shes the most beautiful woman i have ever seen. her hair is amazing and she's just gorgeous idk what else to say or how to fathom her beauty"

"I met miki berenyi a few weeks ago and shes the coolest and nicest person I've ever met so down to earth and nice and lovely which imo makes her incredibly hot"

"Founding mother of Shoegaze"

"I want to hold miki so tenderly and tell her jokes that make her laugh like we’re childhood friends and have a sleepover where we do each others makeup and then fuck so nasty the neighbors get alarmed and debate with each other whether or not to call the cops"

Brian Molko:

"Gender"

"IM GOING TO EAT HER. He is soooo beautiful and freakish and small and weird and girlfriend and tiny like a little princess bug fairy. Literally gorgeous she has to win"

"When he flipped over the table with the little limp wrist.... someone find the video"

"1998 woman of the year"

"Brian Molko is peak gender envy, gender bending and being yourself without caring about other people's opinion, on top of all that he is a great guitarist that writes amazing songs"

"Brian’s gonna win this. I think we all kinda know that."

"Tumblrinas would be nothing without Brian molko"

"Kills her kills her kills her kills her kills her kills him kills her. He's my everything <3"

"He came 10th in the list of hottest women sometimes in the 90s. Gender goals."

"No one in the world can sound so nasal and look so angelic....."

"don't you wish you had his gender"

"Single-handedly took my gender by the scruff of the neck and threw it in a washing machine at full speed. He talked about not expecting to "get away with" passing as a woman to the degree that he did when he started purposely presenting feminine. He talked about the importance to fuck with people's heads through his appearance and behaviour, the importance of ambiguity. About how being in the band allowed him to do stuff he couldn't have done otherwise, to exaggerate some of his traits. He had the fuck ass bob makeup nail polish dresses stuff down, but not in an overly sophisticated way, especially in the early career 90s days the vibe was more shabby punk rock chick. Also he fantasized about being in an all-girl band called Skirt and playing guitar and singing backing vocals in drag. According to a 1997 melody maker interview bandmate steve hewitt called him "the most confused woman he's ever known". And if you go down that rabbit hole there's just more of this. Lots of material to focus on if you like genderweird bisexual unclean libertines (song ref) who will just say Anything in interviews. It's fun."

"I've drawn him as saints and martyrs such as saint sebastian and joan of arc. Or all bloody lying in a wet alley after being thrown out of a club. Or unconscious on a snowy road. Or dying in a glue trap. Or shocked after seeing a dead body. Also as a nun and as rose mcgowan in the doom generation. This is because I'm normal."

"She's a sick little angel faced freak. My theythem girlboy queen. He reminds me of an ant. He's like 5 foot 4 or something. My goth girl boyfriend. <3"

[themodern-daywednesday]

Not a day goes by...

A/N: This is specifically because @thefallennightmare helped me come out of a really dark mindset and reminded me that I need to just have some fun... it motivated me to do a small and sweet fic for her and I hope she and anyone else who reads it enjoys!! No Trigger Warnings or anything! Its just fluff and my universe brain talking!!

gif credit: @thefallennightmare

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rain fell in a relentless rhythm, tapping against the window of the dimly lit backstage room. Noah Sebastian stood there, guitar in hand, the weight of anticipation settling on his shoulders. Tonight’s show was crucial—the crowd was hungry for their music, and he needed to deliver.

As he stepped out of the tour bus, the scent of rain-soaked pavement hit him. The city buzzed with energy, the air thick with anticipation. Lost in his thoughts, he rounded a corner abruptly, colliding with someone in a whirl of chaos.

Apologies rushed from his lips as he steadied himself, his eyes meeting those of the person in front of him. You, the Y/N, stood before him, a vision of serenity in the midst of his turmoil. As he took in your expression, a strange calm settled within him, the storm briefly quieted. Y/N was unlike anyone he’d ever seen. Her eyes held a storm, and her hair clung to her face, damp from the rain. She wore a faded Bad Omens tee, the fabric clinging to her skin. Noah wondered if she knew the lyrics to their songs, if she’d scream them back at him when he stepped on stage.

"Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning," he murmured, a fragment of a song playing in his mind as he gazed at you tentatively.

Your eyes held a gentle understanding, a silent acceptance of the unspoken battles within him. "Way down, would you say I'm worthy?" you replied softly, a question loaded with unspoken reassurance.

In that moment, a connection sparked between them, a shared understanding transcending mere words. 

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Y/N,” she replied. Noah, drawn to your comforting presence, found solace in your company. As the evening passed, conversations flowed effortlessly, the weight of his burdens easing under your comforting gaze.

Noah wondered if this was destiny—the universe conspiring to bring them together. He wanted to know her secrets, the stories hidden behind her eyes.

“Promise me something,” Y/N said, her voice a whisper.

“Anything.”

“Sing like you’re bleeding,” she said. “Like your heart’s breaking. Sing for all the lost souls out there.”

Noah nodded. “I promise.”

As they entered the venue, the crowd roared. Noah took the stage and Y/N found a spot near the front, her eyes never leaving him. And when he sang, he poured his soul into every note, imagining Y/N as the muse who ignited the fire within.

The music swirled around them, binding them together. Y/N closed her eyes, lost in the melody. Noah sang for her—for the girl who wandered into his life like a forgotten chord, for the stranger who became his muse.

In the days that followed, Noah found himself turning to you for solace and support, your presence a beacon of hope amidst the chaos of his world. Through laughter and tears, shared moments and heartfelt conversations, their bond deepened, anchoring them through the tumultuous journey ahead.

And as the tour concluded, Noah stood before you, gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thank you for being my guiding light, my Angel," he whispered, a promise of a brighter future entwined within his words.

[unknownperson246]

I saw you wrote a few fics for Rachel Bolan so I was wondering if you could write a Current Rachel with a fem reader in her early twentys who is Sebastian Bachs daughter and what the reaction would be . I love your writing!

hiii I’m very sorry it’s late also thank you for loving my writing ❤️❤️❤️❤️ but I hope you enjoy it 💋💋

Surprise!:

Words: 894

warnings: *angst* *age gap* *hooking up* *disapproval*

✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:*

You were Sebastian Bach's 24-year-old daughter. You and Rachel never met when you were a kid. Sebastian never introduced his family to his band Skid Row ever. You and Rachel met at a bar. Rachel didn't even know that Sebastian had a daughter. You didn't seem to really care to know any of the members of his band. You were always around your mom. She used to teach you to read and she did makeovers with you. She allowed you to sleep on her bed whenever you wanted to spend the night together with your mom. Sebastian was around you a lot and he was a good dad. He spent the weekends with his band practicing. Skid Row barely did gigs since you were born. Sebastian always told Rachel a bullshit excuse as to why they barely practiced or did big gigs. Skid Row slowly fell apart. All the guys were on bad terms and it just felt weird now that Skid Row was barely a thing anymore. Rachel and Sebastian hadn't been on speaking terms. They could barely look into each other's eyes and talk to each other. Rachel met you at a bar in California. You two had drinks and you conversed. You both hooked up a few times before officially dating. You started to date him for 3 months now and felt it was the right time for him to meet your dad. Little did you know they had known each other for a long time. They both disliked each other and were sour about one another. The way their relationship ended was sad. None of them could recover from how nasty their friendship turned. 

“Rachel I want you to meet my father one day,” You say to him hoping he would say yes. 

“Why can't I meet him now?” He asked, smiling brushing your hair out of your face. 

“You want to meet him now?” You ask.

“Sure. Why not?” He asks. “He is going to be playing his guitar and he is going to be singing at a club tonight. He used to be in a band or something” You explained to Rachel.

“I used to be in a band too. What was his band's name?” Rachel asked.

“I forget what it's called. The band used to be really famous though. They went on tour with a lot of famous bands.” You said to Rachel.

“I had a really famous band too once. It was called Skid Row.” Rachel said as he kissed your cheek.

“That name does sound familiar now.” You muttered under your breath.

It's been a couple of hours and you and Rachel are backstage at a club where your dad is going to play soon. You bought backstage passes to be with your dad. You were standing waiting for him to appear. Rachel was standing behind you and he was a couple of inches shorter than you. You and your dad were the same height. Since Rachel was behind you all he could see was your back. He only caught a glimpse of this mystery man's shadow. You put your arms up in the air and hugged your dad. “Dad. I missed you, how has everything been?” You asked your father. 

“I've been well.” He says.

His voice sounded very close to Sebastian's voice. Rachel slightly flinched at the sound of your dad's voice.

“I have a very special someone I'd love you to meet!” You say to your dad trying to introduce your boyfriend to him. 

“Rachel there is no need to be shy.” You said to him, grabbing his arm and presenting him in front of your father.

“Holy Shit.” Your father says surprised.

 It took Rachel and Sebastian a moment to process all of this information.

“What are you doing here you bastard?” Rachel yelled out. 

You were surprised he spoke to your dad that way.

“You've been dating my daughter?!” Sebastian says pissed off.

You got the hint that they knew each other. You never could have imagined that they knew each other.

“What is going on? How the hell do both of you know each other?” You asked Rachel. 

“He used to be the singer of Skid Row,” Rachel explained to him. 

Sebastian threw his guitar getting ready to fight your boyfriend. You got in the way of both of them. You got your father to calm down. “Dad, you can’t hurt him. He is my boyfriend” You said to your dad loud and clear. 

“Fine. Just keep him away from me” Your dad said, dropping his fists knowing there was nothing he could do to stop you from dating whoever you wanted. The best next solution was to keep Rachel away from him. 

“Okay,” You said to your dad as you walked away hand in hand.

You and Rachel still went on dating knowing that your father had major beef with your boyfriend from the 80s. You knew the age gap between you and Rachel and it didn't bother you. Rachel explained everything that went on between him and your dad. He mentioned that he was 4 years older than Sebastian. You and Rachel both broke up 5 weeks ago because everything was insane. Your father drove Rachel insane and it drove him away from you. You and your dad aren't on speaking terms because your both really upset.

[tword-brainrot]

By Popular Vote! 🗳️ Here’s some Stardew Valley HeadCanons

Bachelor’s Edition!

(Feat: Dialogue lines!)

Alex! 🏈 (Lee-Leaning)

Ler!Alex

A bit awkward at the start but, will get very pokey and playful

Tends to laugh along with the Lee

Almost has like a singsong voice with his teasing

“What about here?? Maybeee over hereeeee?? Aww, that’s good spot!”

Is 100% strong enough to pin you down and 100% uses that to his advantage 👀

^^^ He’s careful about it tho as he doesn’t want to hurt the Lee

Lee!Alex

His tough guy persona? We don’t know her and after tickling Alex, I’m not sure we ever did.

He’s the type to hug himself during it, allowing the Ler to totally destroy him

Definitely a squirmer, a possible squeaker if you hit the right spots

The right spots being his thighs and under the arms

You’ll definitely get at least a little bit of laughter from practically anywhere on his midsection though

Would rather die than admit he likes it

“T-this is so childish!!! Wait, not thERE!! Nonono!!! Stahahahap!!”

Elliott! 🪶 (Ler-Leaning)

Ler!Elliott

Very soft ler, a traces; flutters, and spiders type beat

Loves to use both ends of his writing quills to tickle with

Asks the Lee if his tickling is ✨Dazzling✨ them at least 4 times throughout (50% for ego and 50% to make sure it’s to the lees liking)

A teasy little shit and he absolutely knows it, aims to make the Lee blush

“Why, does this tantalizingly light touch bother you?….No? Marvelous~”

Lee!Elliott

He laughs kind of like Gaston if you hit a less sensitive spot but, if you get a good spot?

Squealing, absolutely hysterical

Said good spots are his neck and the arches of his feet

His hips and ribs will get that boisterous Gaston Laugh

Surprisingly good at keeping still for the wreckoning given his shrieking

“I mahahay peheherish! Cehehehease this AHAHahaha! nonsense at once! IHihiHi implore you!! aAAHaHa!!”

Harvey! ☕️ (50/50)

Ler!Harvey

Has 100% played it off like an exam

Tickle hug extraordinaire, loves to squeeze the Lee close

Uses his stubble and stethoscope as a weapons if he’s in a mood

Can go from the softest ler in the world to absolute evil in 0.5 seconds

Loves to talk to the Lee, almost like he’s monitoring them??

“This gets quite a reaction, must have a lot of nerve endings here. Is this too sensitive for you to handle? ..Oh, it is? That’s good~”

Lee!Harvey

Won’t ask for it but, won’t ask for it to stop either

He’s the type to cover his face while peeking through his fingers

Worst spots are his hips, ribs, and under the chin

Has a laugh that can range from gruff and wheezy to squeaky and giggly depending on where you hit

Finds the aspect of tickling absolutely fascinating and is not afraid to ask the ler to experiment

“Maybe if you hit bone instead of muscle you’ll get a different reAHAHACTiOn! WaAhAHaOW!!”

Sam! 🛹 (Ler-leaning)

Ler!Sam

As an older brother, this boy knows how to make grown men WEEP

Has the tickle monster act down to a science 🧪

“””accidental””” elbow nudge or something like that to find out if the Lee is ticklish

Playing the guitar helps with his moods a lot 🎸

“The tickle monster is gonna find you and tkltkltklTickle You!! You can run, you can hide but, you will be caught~”

Lee!Sam

Not very ticklish except on the knees and sides

If you catch him off guard or fresh out of a kick flip, you could probably at least get a chuckle out of him

Maybe a giggle if you’re a super duper lucky ducky

Retaliation is inevitable so, the ler better hope that they’re less ticklish than him

“Hehehey, cut that out! Hehehe, quit it! You’re so paying for that!”

Sebastian!💧(Lee)

Ler!Sebastian

Very soft and easily flustered

His nails are his biggest weapon 👀

Chuckles when he hits a good spot, very pleased with himself

Hums a lil tune while he tickles

Stronger than he looks and can pin the Lee if he absolutely needs to

Typically too shy to ler though

“Hmmmhmmhmmhmm~Ahh..that must be a sensitive spot? I’ll stay there for a little while then, hmm?”

Lee!Sebastian

Most ticklish of the Bachelors!

Hyper-sensitive to touch, literally a feather could absolutely destroy him

Cannot ask for it as he can’t say “tickle” without turning bright red or stuttering

VIOLENTLY gets into moods

You won’t catch him barefoot around another person as it’s his worst spot (besides Sam and Abi)

Starts to get giggly hiccups after about 5 minutes in

“Plehehease!!! *hic!* NaAhahAhat Thehehehere!! *hic!* you’re gahahahanna kihihihill *hic* mehehe!”

Shane! 🌶️ (Lee-leaning)

Ler!Shane

ABSOLUTELY DEVIOUS LER

Typically pins the Lee in positions where he can hit any spot

Starts slow and methodical, ends fast and darty

When he’s drunk, he’s bad about knowing when to quit

Teases with intent to kill

“Awww, Whazza matter? Can’t handle a lil’ tictictickling? Too bad, you’re cute when you laugh so, you’re gonna keep laughing for me~”

Lee!Shane

Can’t ask for it when sober but, is happy to when drunk

A definite squirmer, almost shaky

Curses like a SAILOR if you hit under the arms or his tummy

Absolutely melts at back tickling, he’s as happy as a purring kitten

Goofiest of goofy smiles, like he gets lil dimples (I just want to see this man happy I stg 🥲)

“Hehehehehey!! Stahahahahap!!ShitshitshitshIHIHIHIT!!! Y-you MAHAHA-Mother F*cker AhahaAha!”

(Sorry this took so long, fam! But, I hope you enjoyed the read!)

[veronicaphoenix]

IKIGAI (or A REASON FOR BEING) — CHAPTER FIVE

"Noah's grandmother would spend years telling them about the grace that existed beyond the shadows of their shared struggles. She would tell them about the reason for their connection, that the friendship they found solace in was a source of light amid the prevailing darkness, and that there was a lot of joy waiting for them, even though the path would be filled with demons lurking here and there. Hana, since the very first day, remained steadfast in her belief that there was a happy ending waiting for Lia and Noah. "

Chapter tags: best friends, parent's neglect towards children, angst, comfort, implied substance intake, dysfunctional family. | Word count: 1.950 |Cross posted on AO3. | Series masterpost. ✧.*

CHAPTER 5

Lia is 13. Noah is 14.

“Are you going somewhere?” Cristina asked from her seated position on the sofa. She was smoking and watching some soap opera on the tv. It was her day off, and it was surprisingly strange that she was not in some bar downtown, getting drunk and waiting for a man to bring her home and get in her pants. 

Lia didn’t so much as turn from the door to acknowledge her. 

“To Noah’s.”

“Of course, it’s always that little boyfriend of yours.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Whatever. There are condoms in my bedside table, first drawer. Don’t look at me like that. Last thing we need is another annoying kid to take care of. I’ve got my hands full with you.”

Lia blocked her words. She felt another of those familiar stings. She couldn’t grasp how a mother could be so cold-blooded to say such things. 

In the past couple of years, Lia had begun to see, to understand, the precarity of her living condition, of her growing environment, especially when it came to the influence her mom had on it. The relationship between them became strained with each passing day. There were days in which they barely acknowledged themselves as mother and daughter. Lia missed her, or actually, she missed the idea of a mother rather than the actual person that was living under the same roof with her. She wanted to come home from school and tell her how good she had done in Literature, in History, how she struggled a bit in Math, but those were talks that she only ever had with Hana, and even though the old lady gave her unconditional attention, she wasn’t her mother, and Lia’s heart couldn’t avoid missing that figure in her life, same as she missed the father she never knew. She wondered if she would ever be able to become a parent, given that she had never had a proper example of how to be one. Whenever those thoughts arose, she shook her head. She would never be a mother. There was no reason to be one. She didn’t want that. 

All these thoughts and questions raced through her mind as she walked the streets. The walk to Noah’s house was barely a fifteen-minute walk. For her last birthday, the Sebastian’s had gifted her an mp3 with headphones and one afternoon, Noah, Lia and Nicholas had learnt how to transfer music to the little device by merely using a cable and a computer. 

It was a nice morning, spring, everything around Lia looked colorful, and she did another effort to keep it cool. 

She had agreed on meeting Noah that morning to go to one of the music shops downtown and buy some new CDs. Noah was getting much better at playing guitar, and Lia liked to write lyrics to his tunes. He had a full notebook of those kept in one of the drawers on his nightstand. He loved to stare at Lia’s handwriting when he missed her. 

That morning, though, wasn’t going to go as planned. 

As Lia approached the Sebastian’s household and climbed up the front steps, she could hear the raised voices coming from the inside, and she didn’t pay attention at how the flowers were blooming outside. 

“Dammit, Eve! What have you done to yourself?!”

It was Noah’s grandpa. He sounded frustrated and angry. 

Lia hesitated by the door, uncertain and considering if she should ring the doorbell or turn around. 

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” he continued. 

Another voice, unfamiliar, retorted defiantly: “I don’t need that from you,” it was a woman’s voice, much younger. Lia didn’t recognize it. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but she worried that Noah would be there, and that whoever was engaged in that heated argument with his grandfather could harm him and maybe Hana, if she was there, too. “I don’t need those fucking words, dad.”

Noah’s mother. It had to be. 

Driven by a sense of danger, Lia rang the doorbell. If Noah was indeed there, she needed to do something, to be there for him, maybe remove him from the situation and take him away. 

“And now what, for God’s sake?!” the woman's frustrated exclamation pierced through the door just before it swung open.

“Don’t use the word of the Lord in vain, Eve,” Hana’s voice threatened her. It was her who stood in front of Lia when the door opened. 

The look in Hana’s eyes changed immediately as they settled on her. Her expression softened. Lia spotted Noah in the living room, standing by his grandpa’s side. He just looked at her for a moment, but there was a cry for help in his brown eyes; desperation, sadness, and a mix of anger. 

The air hung heavy in the house. Very heavy. 

“Lia, darling,” they had been expecting her. Lia could smell the cookies that Hana had promised to bake for her and Noah when they would meet that morning. She knew from that very moment in which the door opened that she would never get a taste of those. 

“Is everything okay?” She hurried to ask. Then, her eyes diverted towards the disheveled woman that stood in the center of the living room, who’s appearance spoke volumes of the struggled she faced. She was tall and very thin, but she looked very old. Her eyes were hollow, the acrid stench of sweat clung to her like a second skin, and her hands were trembling as she begged for something. Her dressing choice didn’t look too well, either. Lia couldn’t grasp it at first, but it didn’t take long for her to understand what was that all about. 

The woman, Noah’s mother, was asking for money. 

“And who the fuck is this now?” Eve’s voice cut through the charged atmosphere. 

If the question startled her, Lia didn’t show it. 

“I’m Lia,” she dared to answer. She had dealt with similar behaviors before. She was not scared. 

“And what the fuck are you doing here, Lia?” Eve asked, taking a couple of steps towards her.  Have you come to give me what I need? Have you…?!”

“Don’t talk to her.”

Lia’s eyes diverted to Noah. Her anchor. 

“You’re gonna give me orders now? You’re my son in case you forgot.” Eve’s words didn’t hold any sympathy, any tenderness. 

Lia would keep asking herself the same questions during the upcoming years: why were Eve and Cristina like that? Why did they behave like that with them children? Mothers weren’t supposed to do it like that. What was wrong with them? Was it her fault that her mom didn’t love her? Was it Noah’s fault that Eve wasn’t around to see him grow?

Noah and Lia never really talked much about their mothers. They didn’t because there wasn’t much to say, because they knew, because they understood each other without words. They wanted mothers, and they never really had them, and despite of the sadness of that common bond, they knew the ties between them extended much further than that. Hana had told them countless of times that they were each other’s light, and they had always laughed about it because they didn’t really understand. 

“You forgot you have a son!” Noah shouted back. 

Noah’s voice reached a pitch that she had never heard before. She had never seen Noah angry, in fact, and apparently, neither had his mom. The force of his words took Eve aback, prompting a slight recoil and widening of her dazed eyes.  

“How the fuck are you raising him?” She redirected her ire toward Hana, ignoring her son’s emotional outburst.  

“Eve,” Hana’s voice remained calm, soft, as it was expected from women, it seemed. Lia would later wonder, during a reflecting time, why Hana hadn’t shouted at her. She never did in all the times that they stood in the same room, and it was obvious that softness wasn’t something that worked with Eve. Why did Hana always choose calmness in the face of her daughter’s storm? The impact of witnessing this familiar strife would contribute to the subtle transformations within Lia as she turned into a teenager, and she would reach a point in which she would decide she wouldn’t tolerate her mother’s behavior any longer, and if Cristina was a storm, Lia would turn into a hurricane. “He’s just worried about you, as all of us are.”

“Bullshit.”

Eve’s withdrawal symptoms intensified with each passing moment. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead. She was aware of her own shame even though she tried to disguise it as bravery. She suddenly clutched her stomach, waves of nausea sweeping over her. 

“You need help,” Noah continued. When Lia looked to the side to see his expression, she only saw disappointment and disgust. 

Hana turned their back to them and clutched a tissue as her husband’s mind kept racing back and forth from previous scenarios to the one unfolding right now. How was anyone prepared to deal with such situations? 

Lia had never seen the old couple like this. She felt an innate need to reverse roles and take care of them as they had been taking of her for the past years. 

However, she was smarter than to know she shouldn’t be there, yet now she couldn’t just turn around, and Eve seemed to have come down from the high induced by Lia’s arrival.  

"I just need a little money, Mom. Just a bit to get through this. I promise, I'll get clean after this," Eve pleaded, her eyes wild with desperation.

Hana shook her head, her resolve hardening. "No more, Eve. We've given you enough chances and we’ve heard that enough times. You need professional help."

Eve's pleas fell on deaf ears as her parents, with a heavy heart, ushered her out of the house.

A sudden rage erupted within her, fueled by the desperation of withdrawal and the bitter taste of rejection. The flicker of recognition in her eyes was replaced by a burning fury.

"Oh, I need professional help? You think you're better than me?" she spat, her voice laced with venom, as she wrenched herself away from her parents' grasp. Her unsteady steps became purposeful strides as she turned to face them, a wild defiance in her eyes.

Noah’s grandfather, trying to maintain his composure, stepped forward. "Eve, this isn't helping anyone. We just want you to get better."

"Get better?" she laughed, a hollow, mirthless sound. "You've never cared about me. You only care about your precious image in this godforsaken neighborhood."

Hana shook her head. "Eve, please. You know that’s not true. We love you. But we won't watch you destroy yourself. Not anymore."

“You shouldn’t even let your son see you like this,” Noah’s grandpa added. 

Whatever Eve was feeling twisted into resentment in her distorted perception. She lunged toward a small figure of the god Fujin, sending it crashing to the floor. The room shuddered with the force of her anger. Hana and her husband suppressed a gasp. "You love me? This is your love?" she shouted, her words a chaotic symphony of pain and rage.

Noah, watching from the sidelines, felt his anger surge, too. He kept his hands at his sides, turned into fists. This wasn't the mother he remembered. Hell, he couldn’t even remember if she ever held him as a baby. The woman before him was a stranger, consumed by her own demons.

Hardened by years of frustration, his grandpa finally snapped. "Enough, Eve!

But Eve was beyond reason. The room felt claustrophobic with the intensity of her anger. 

In the aftermath, the shattered figurine of the Japanese god laying on the floor mirrored the fractured bonds of a family torn apart. Lia realized then that life wasn’t good anywhere, that the way she had perceived others’ lives might have been a façade, and suddenly she felt scared that Noah and her would grow up to live two more lives of struggle and suffering, with no happy endings. 

Noah’s innocence was forever tainted by the harsh realities of her mother’s addiction, as was Lia’s. The bonds that intertwined their lives were undeniable cruel. Hana would spend years telling them about the grace that existed beyond the shadows of their shared struggles. She would tell them about the reason for their connection, that the friendship they found solace in was a source of light amid the prevailing darkness, and that there was a lot of joy waiting for them, even though the path would be filled with demons lurking here and there. Hana, since the very first day, remained steadfast in her belief that there was a happy ending waiting for Lia and Noah.   

Eve, standing just beyond the closed door, could hear her father's words but was consumed by the turmoil within. The drugs had warped her reality, making it nearly impossible to comprehend the magnitude of the damage she was causing.

Without waiting for a more destruction, Noah was the one that suddenly stormed toward the door. His gaze locked with his mother's for barely two seconds. "You’ve destroyed everything. Maybe one day you'll realize what you’ve done.”

He swung the door open, the cool nice morning air offering a stark contrast to the heated chaos inside. The door banged against the wall.

His steps gradually faded away as he sprinted far from home, distancing himself from the anguished cries of Eve and the voices of his grandparents calling out his name, all becoming muffled in his ears.

He ran for nearly ten minutes until he reached the woods, then he continued walking at a fast pace until he reached the edge of the lake, and then stopped in one of the docks, breathing heavily and staring at the far distance, looking for a respite. This was one of his and Lia’s favorite places.  

Only when he felt two thin arms wrap around him and a warm cheek pressing on his back did his breath begin to steady. Lia’s familiar smell engulfed him. He raised his hands to touch the skin of her forearms. She was only wearing a plan white t-shirt that day. He heard her voice. I’m sorry, Noah. He took a deep breath and dug his fingers into her skin, wanting to fuse with her, to sink himself in the comfort and shelter she always provided.  

[ubejamjar]

⥽◦Tagged: 10 Characters/10 Fandoms/10 Tags◦⥼

Alex Stern - The Ninth House - Book "--there was a big difference between things being fair and things being set right." I just love a scruffy misfit trying to make her way in an ivy league world that everyone keeps telling her she doesn't belong in. She's doing her best and I love that. Aji is very loosely based on her.

Sebastian - Stardew Valley - Game Similar to my irl husband, I saw the edgelord smoking, making a grumpy face, and I said "THAT ONE". Complete with playing ttrpgs, motorcycle fixing, playing bass guitar, and late night drives talking about how we're gonna leave this place behind. He even has a best friend who is basically Abigail.

Jackie Welles - Cyberpunk 2077 - Game All the way to the big leagues, big guy!

Zevran Arainai- Dragon Age: Origins - Game Sometimes all you want in life is a bisexual assassin who tries to kill you, rizzes you up, and panics when he realizes he caught feelings for you. Bonus points if he threatens a head of state for letting you get kidnapped.

Zoya Nazyalensky -King of Scars - Book Listen to me, I understand how Aymeric and Haurchefant feel about the WoL because that's how I feel about Zoya Nazyalensky. I love this woman, I would die for her, i would give up everything I own for her, I would commit horrible war crimes--

Balsa Yonsa - Moribito - Anime Have you ever wanted to watch a cool, strong, woman with a spear beat the shit out of people while guarding an adorable child? No? Well why not???? I like women with spears.

Dragana Vukovic ◦ The White Vault - Podcast It was the love at first time she funneled gunpowder down her jacket sleeve into debris so she could blow it up and rescue people from an ancient sacrificial cycle.

Daughter Dooley ◦ The Old Gods of Appalachia - Podcast Literal eldritch undead queen, fought the darkness because he disrespected her lesbian doctor moms and I love that for her.

Johannes Cabal - Johannes Cabal Series - Books This man is sad. He is a necromancer and a criminal and a snarky piece of shit and I want to kiss him. I want to kick him off an airship. He sasses the head of a military state, he runs a circus to steal souls for the Devil, he refuses to do paperwork in Hell. He's the complete package imo. He pretends to be a detective. He looks like a doofus.

Johanna Barker - Sweeney Todd - Musical Ok, hear me out. I just love the fact that (in some versions) this girl who gets held up as the perfect paragon of feminine purity grabs the gun from her sailor boyfriend and shoots a motherfucker because she's sick of being held captive. I support Johanna's villain arc. Her dad got one, it's only fair tbh.

Tagged by: @amalthea-felsblood (Thank you my friend <3)

Tagging (with much affection): @sasslett @gatheredfates @thevikingwoman @lilbittymonster @pumpkinmagekupo @icehearts @khaiens @aislingsurrow @hares-and-hounds @otherworldseekers

[spaceyaceface]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

if i'm not too late could u do headcanons for what instruments the boys would play? maybe also how they'd react to an mc that was musically inclined?

ILY I HOPE YOU'VE HAD A GOOD BIRTHDAY SO FAR

THANK YOU AHHHHHHH! It's definitely not to late lovely!!! Also I am such a bit music lover so I LOVED THIS thank you!!!

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: I feel like he would play a little bit of a lot of instruments. Like just enough to be passible on piano, cello, guitar, etc. There's not one he particularly loves---It's really more about the ability to say "Yeah I can play piano," for him. Not that he doesn't love music, though. If MC was musically inclined, he'd love listening to them play, and would rush to insist they teach him how to improve.

OMINIS GAUNT: You can all pry piano playing Ominis Gaunt out of my cold dead hands. Seriously, though. With those hands??? He learned when he was young and it's an escape for him. He's masterful and loves Debussy, fight me. I could also see him learning violin down the line, too. Music is very emotional to him. He would be elated to learn MC was musically inclined, and would insist on learning a duet with them, whatever their inclination was.

GARRETH WEASLEY: Oh he's a guitar boy. He's the one who will sit by the campfire and start playing Wonderwall. He knows like, four songs, and is fine with that. Don't worry, he sings when he plays too, and he's got a good voice. Like Ominis, he'd want to play a duet with MC, but is much less capable of actually doing so, but why would that stop him from trying?

AMIT THAKKAR: Cello! His mother insisted he started learning when it was bigger than him, and while he used to complain, he now loves it. He usually hums along while he plays, too---he can't help it. Upon hearing MC was musically inclined, he'd drop everything and insist they have a mini concert for him, and you best believe he'd give the best round of applause you've ever heard.

[angstics]

In 2002, the official My Chemical Romance website had a frequently asked questions tab. This was written sometime before May 2002 (question 4). Below the cut is all 10 questions and answers. This is the archived website.

We get a lot of questions about certain things... so here are some answers.

What's the significance of the name of the band? Mikey came up with the name My Chemical Romance. It works on a lot of different levels for the band. At the root of it, the name refers to the works of Scottish author Irvine Welsh. A "chemical romance" is the genre he has created in works such as The Acid House, Filth, and of course Trainspotting. Mikey added the word "my" to it to add a personal dimension to the name. In essence, it means a romance with chemical substances.

So are you saying you guys do drugs? No. My Chemical Romance does not do drugs or condone the use of drugs. However, the band is not straightedge and likes to party like everyone else.

How long have you guys been a band? It seems like you guys came out of nowhere... As a fully functioning band, My Chemical Romance has been together since Jan of 2002, when Mikey was officially added to the roster as bass player. Matt and Gerard started the band in November 2001, with Matt playing drums and Gerard singing and playing guitar, but Gerard isn't that good on guitar and he wanted a guitarist so he could just sing, jump around, dance and do other things like "unleash the bats," "hump the sky," and "exorcise the demons." Ray then joined the band and they had a hard time finding a bass player until realizing they should just train Mikey, who ended up making them all look like bitches when he learned the set in a month. Other than that all of the members of the band have been making music together for years in various bands and have been a part of the scene in various ways. Until now, the music and the combination of musicians never fit perfectly and could best be chalked up as a learning experience. We've recently Frank Iero as another guitarist, and the band now finally feels complete.

You guys have a record coming out on Eyeball Records? How and When? Eyeball Records is a label we respect and love, and we're thrilled to get the offer to do our first record with them. They have a long history, have put out and worked with a lot of bands we love, and have given us 100% creative freedom to make this album however we wanted. They are as excited about the record as we are. We record the first week of May '02 and expect the record to have a summer release. The album entitled "I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love" will feature all of the songs from our set, including a final mix of "Vampires Will Never Hurt You". From then on we will tour and support the album for a long time while working on new songs.

What are your influences? Everything. We listen to lots of different music but if we had to list some bands and artists that have been a big influence on our sound we would have to say: Iron maiden (it doesn't get any better than these guys), At The Gates (except these guys), The Pixies, The Misfits (Danzig years) and Samhain, The Smiths, Morrissey, The Haunted, Pulp, Blur, Johann Sebastian Bach, Fernando Sor, Queen, Guns and Roses, Helloween, and the list goes on and on...

Are Mikey and Gerard brothers? Yes. Mikey and Gerard are loving brothers that enjoy rocking out together. But they consider Ray and Matt their brothers too, only Puerto Rican and French ones.

What kind of equipment do you use? Ray plays a Session guitar. A Session is a knock off of a Gibson Les Paul from around the early 80s. I asked a vintage guitar store owner some information about Session seeing as how Ray won't play anything else and he said, "It's a piece of shit. It was made in the Philippines in the '80s and Sam Ash used them to sucker people into buying a cheap guitar. Worst guitar ever. And the factory blew up". Ray also uses a 100 watt Marshall JCM 2000 head, a Laney Cabinet, and assorted stomp boxes. Mikey plays a Fender American Jazz bass with obnoxious silver sparkle finish. Matt uses Pearl drums, Zildjian cymbals (a lot), and an enormous Gibraltar drum cage. If you've ever seen us live then you understand how big this thing is. Gerard uses an SM58 Shure mic. The mic of choice for Bruce Dickinson.

I want a T-shirt! Any merch soon? We have some buttons and we're running out. We just invested in a button maker so we can have all sorts of self-indulgent crazy buttons you can wear for cheap. The band has finally decided on 2 designs that are being drawn up as we speak and they love them, so expect them soon.

What's all this nonsense about bats??? The band likes bats. Who doesn't? If you've seen the band live you might have heard Gerard mention something about turning into one or unleashing some sort of swarm of them. "Unleash the fucking bats" is something they say to each other seconds before starting the set to get themselves pumped up. This all started back in Jan '02 when the band finally came together and started playing together with an intensity none of them had ever known. That fateful night they rocked together so hard that a "rock portal" opened up and out flew a swarm of giant bats. No shit.

I heard you guys cover Morrissey... why? We cover a B-side called Jack The Ripper. Basically we wanted to cover it because we knew we could do a really rocking version of this song. It rocks as it is but we felt if we added a little "kick" to it and did like we do all of our others it would be something special. If you've ever seen us play this live we absolutely can't control ourselves while we're doing it, and its a good warm-up for "Vampires Will Never Hurt You."

[snowdropheart]

question meme

I was tagged by the ever-lovely @feeisamarshmallow for this question meme, so here we go!

1. Are you named after anyone? My middle names are family names, but my first name is actually after a radio host my dad really liked lol

2. When was the last time you cried? I actually hardly ever cry, but I cried for a good while yesterday, and it felt so good to finally get that release of emotion. I was also near tears the night before watching Umberto D for a class (he just loves his dog so much!!)

3. Do you have kids? I do not, but I have a deeply nurturing streak, and I fear I will want to have them someday

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? Yeah, I think so, but mostly just to people I’m really close to

5. What's the first thing you notice about people? Probably their hair and their sense of fashion (more so because I’m insecure and trying so suss out if I fit in than anything else lol). Also general vibe, if that makes sense

6. What's your eye color? Blue

7. Scary movies or happy endings? Scary movies can have happy endings if they want to! Lol. But probably happy endings, if I have to choose one of the two, but my all-time favourite is a melancholic ending

8. Any special talents? Hmmm, I have one double-jointed thumb, does that count? I consistently surprise people by knowing the names of trees/flowers/constellations/birds/etc, but I really only know the basics. I like to think I’m a pretty alright poet

9. Where were you born? Canada

10. What are your hobbies? Writing, watching TV/movies and thinking very hard about them, walking, singing, dancing like a maniac in my room, plucking out the 5 chords I know on the ukulele, reading when I’m not swamped by theory readings for class lol

11. Do you have any pets? No, but I’m desperate for a cat. My roommate is currently cat-sitting for a friend, and, to quote the great Rosa Diaz: “I’ve only [known] Sebastian for a day and a half, but if anything happened to him, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself”

12. What sports do you play/ have you played? I am probably the least athletic person of all time, but I had track and field potential as an 11 year old and if I didn’t have Brain Problems, I probably would have gone on to be sporty

13. How tall are you? I’m pretty sure I’m exactly average lol

14. Favorite subject at school? In high school, I loved drama with all my heart; in uni, I took a Canadian cinema class last year that was incredible. We watched Last Night, which is now one of my favourite films of all time. I also took a European history class in second year that was super interesting

15. Dream Job? I have secret indie singer-songwriter dreams. In my head, I sometimes pretend my poems are songs and I’m a Phoebe Bridgers type who plays my melancholic little acoustic guitar and sings them, but I have very little instrument ability in real life, and no idea how to construct a melody.

I also want to just live by the lake with a cat and a garden and lots of friends around

Thank you for the tag @feeisamarshmallow! I super low-key no pressure at all tag @yellowfog4 @goneahead and anyone who wants to do this <3

[backpockct]

INTRODUCING CALEB RYAN WRITTEN (AND LOVED!) BY CORRIE

 ⸻     have  you  ever  heard  THE MAN by  the killers  ,  well  it  is CALEB RYAN to  a  tee  .  the  twenty six year  old  musician has  been  spotted  wandering  down  portobello  road  markets  just  last  sunday  ,  do  you  know  them  ?  would  you  say  he is more  quarrelsome or  more  self-assured?  anyway  ,  they  remind  me  of  vintage leather jackets, calloused fingers fingers from playing the guitar  too much, always having a pair of sunglasses to hand, drunken flirting, bruised knuckles, maybe  you'll  catch  them  around  yeah ?     ⸻     [          ◟  HARRIS DICKINSON. ◝           ] 

triggers: mention of fertility issues

THE BASICS:

full name: caleb sebastian ryan 

nicknames: cal // c 

birthday: 24 1996 (26 years old)

gender: cis man (he/him)

sexuality: pansexual

relationship status: very single

BASIC INTRO:

orignally from brighton, the south of england, caleb is an only child. his parents struggled to conceive, so he was a bit of a blessing. 

he’s always been a pretty spoilt child, his parents are both very wealthy and he’s grown up getting whatever he wanted. 

for his tenth birthday, he asked for a guitar and singing lessons, he’d been watching a lot of MTV and wanted to be a cool guy in a band.

of course, caleb got what he wanted and he started learning to play the guitar.

he got pretty good, so him and some of his other musical friends decided to form a band. 

caleb made himself the front man of the band, as he was the most confident out of all of them. 

once they finished school, they decided that they want to take this music thing seriously, so they gave themselves a year to work on the band thing. 

they moved to london, hoping that it would help gain more interest. they all worked shitty retail jobs, whilst doing music on the side. 

it’s taken a lot of hard work, they entered lots of battle of the bands competitions, played concerts to empty working mens clubs, sent out their demos to people. 

but luckily an agent took interest in them and the band has recently been signed to an indie record label, they are working on their first album. their careers are really taking off!! 

outside of music, caleb is a bit of a sterotypical front man, he’s confident, charming, always has a grin on his lips, he’s a big old flirt. 

although he’s hand an exprience of real life, he’s still a bit of spoilt rich kid at heart, plus he’s always ready for an arugment. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

bandmates

friends

fans of his band

fwbs

exes

management team 

if you’d like to plot with any of my muses then please feel free to hit me up on discord @ corey in wetherspoons ™#0678!!

[inner--islands]

Interview with Stag Hare (December 2015)

1. What are some recent inspirations?

Musically: Jerry Garcia Band, Basic Channel, John Serrie, the music that plays at the massage school I’ve been attending, much of which I am never able to figure out what it is but is often so dope. Often it is classical Raga type stuff, other times more new age synth sounds… other stuff: deep space nine, gods and radicals blog, andrew alba paintings.

2. How would you describe your relationship to song titles in your work? Your titles somehow give me the impression that the music is part of a greater cohesive world with characters and stories, but the details are withheld (maybe I’m just projecting or maybe it’s not necessary to know)

I love that you say this, I personally do feel that the music does relate to an interconnected world with all sorts of characters and places and stories…. the song titles to me are really important to help set a context for the music and create the most effective gateway into that world as possible. It’s definitely a trick to convey enough to get the mind thinking and the imagination running without giving away too much. Maybe that world needs all different types of listeners with their own projections and imaginations fleshing out those details collectively….

3. Most of your songs have a drone in them. How do you approach making a new drone and having it feel fresh?

This is something I am always trying to figure out. How DO I keep things sounding fresh…. I’m not so sure. Usually I try different approaches, different instrument and/or processing, different methods to try to come up with something fresh, but usually by the time the song is finished I’ll just sort of instinctively go in at some point and lay down the “right” drone which ends up being there more as a functional spine to the song then anything. So, I’m not so sure I really succeed at keeping the drones fresh, I pretty much make them the same as I always have, a mix of guitar and delay mainly.

4. Has having a child changed your perspective on your relationship with sounds? How does Sebastian engage with sound and music?

Well, its maybe sharpened my focus, brought me closer to the relationship I have always strived for, which is something that’s hard to articulate. I’m very conscious of Sebastian as a listener and as an observer now, and he’s almost like this new presence in the stag hare music world which keeps a certain integrity just through the act of observing. He makes me want to make a certain energy/sound more than ever which sometimes I think I’ve successfully achieved, and other times its sort of just taking its time rambling around the adjacent territories. But I know where the center point is.. He loves music, he loves to dance and gets really excited by anything with a good groove. He’s the best audience I’ve ever had. and he also loves to make music himself, he plays around on (literally sometimes, on top of) my acoustic guitar which I have tuned to an open tuning… he plays around on all the different hand drums I have laying around and shakers and such. Lately I’ve been playing my wooden flute to him and he loves that and does his best to play but hasn’t really figured it out yet. He also will pick up a microphone if its around and sing into it, so we jam together that way sometimes. He seems to have a pretty natural instinct towards music which blows me away and makes me feel more responsibility to give him good sounds to live in.

5. What are some of your favorite distortion sounds in 5 songs?

Not sure I can answer that without digging through tracks and getting too carried away and spending hours trying to find exactly the right songs to express my taste in distortion. Off the top of my head I’ll say My Bloody Valentine - Sometimes was one of the first songs I remember being obsessed with the distortion sound. Spectrum - Hey Man Maybe the first song with distortion is still maybe some of the best sounding distortion to me which is Marty Robbins - Don’t worry Daft Punk - Rollin and Scratchin The really fuzzy buzzy sounds used in the late 60s I like a lot but can’t think of a specific song….

6. Do you have mental images that you associate with your songs? Do these images evolve as you’re working on a song? Do they evolve after it’s finished?

If I have mental images they are like dream images in that they are multi faceted and tend to shift if you look too closely. I mean, the sounds themselves tend to create a mental image, so yes, but not something specifically tangible. One thing that I’ve been noticing is that if I revisit a song the mental impression does tend to be pretty close to how it was when I made it, but maybe with some development, so in a way they evolve, and in a way they don’t.

7. Which Grateful Dead bootleg might get the nay-sayers onto the other side of the fence?

Well, I dunno that I care too much about convincing anyone to like something they don’t feel compelled to like, it seems things work best when we can find our own special places, or at least I tend to prefer it that way. Besides, plenty of folks are pretty well camped out on this side of the fence. But that said, I’ll say I’ve been really into Jerry Garcia Band lately. Current fav: Jerry Garcia Band 11/23/77 so so good. I highly recommend that show. Otherwise, there’s just so much material and different eras, some people swear by ‘77, others '72, I’ve been super into '76 and spend a lot of time in '89 though lots of people think I’m crazy. I’d say the “drums” and “space” in the late 80’s onward is my fav, more weird samples and digital trippy drum sounds. Idk, you could do worse than to check out maybe one of the most classic shows which is 5/25/74 Campus Stadium in Santa Barbara. I’m certainly nowhere in the ballpark of being an expert though. But this person has lots to say: http://www.deadlistening.com/2011/03/1974-may-25-uc-santa-barbara.html

8. Do you have any favorite practices or rituals (using the term loosely) to set a positive tone for the day?

I don’t worry too much about setting a tone for the day, more so I work on accepting and navigating the tones I find present, which in my life tend to oscillate pretty regularly in seeming total disregard to my intentions or will. Ideally this involves having space to follow my intuition. My intuition will tell me what type of pace, activity etc and that usually leads to the most satisfaction. I feel very strongly about having that ability to follow basic intuitive practices at their proper pace and time, which for me is definitely a certain ritual. I want all of my activities to exist within or around this ritual ideally. However, this is not something that is always possible.

9. Geek question: What kind of synths have you been using the last few years?

I dont really have any synths at the moment….. I have a Korg Monotribe which you can hear more in my Ariel stuff than Stag Hare…. other than that some soft synths… Korg Wavestation Korg Polysix Korg Ms-20Korg Legacycell Arturia Minimoog V Station just borrowed an Akai Miniak this last week actually and am having fun with that. Not a lot of knobs but good sounds.

10. Words of wisdom you like to recall in times of need?

How sweet it is to be loved by yo u

Stag Hare is Willow Skye-Biggs, who released the expansive ambient collection, Tapestry, now available from the Inner Islands Bandcamp page.

[dontgiveadonald]

Name: Donald Duck Age: 42 Height: 6'0 Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: Bisexual Occupation: Navy veteran/full-time uncle (currently between jobs) Zodiac: Gemini sun, Aries moon, Taurus rising Faceclaim: Sebastian Stan

Description

As the older twin brother, Donald has had the reputation of being protective since he was young. It originated from having a sister like Della Duck, who was seemingly fearless and extremely impulsive. Donald will always love his twin sister to death, but her thrill-seeking has always been stressful for him, and that never seemed to change. Unlike Della, Donald prioritizes family and safety over adventuring. Not that he doesn't love a good adventure here and there, but with his track-record of terrible luck it was always a risk. Donald simply takes a moment to think things through first when he can before jumping in, while Della was far too impatient to do that ever.

Between Della and Uncle Scrooge always seeking adventure, it was no wonder that Donald often felt like the black-sheep of the family. He already struggled to fit in growing up, especially with his speech disorder that resulted in a majority of people to misunderstand what he was ever saying. His outlet for feeling like an outcast was music, writing his own songs and playing guitar almost daily in his teenage years. He even had a band with two of his friends, but once he turned 18, he made the decision to seek change and possibly build a future career for himself — so he joined the navy as soon as he was old enough. He always had a special love for the ocean, and he wanted to get out there in the world and have some new experiences without his family's influences. He learned a lot about himself while he was enlisted those 4 years, especially self-discipline. Donald had expected that the navy was going to change his life, but he had no idea that once he returned his life would never be the same.

Coming back to Uncle Scrooge's, he was met with the surprise that Della was pregnant with triplets! With the father nowhere in the picture, Donald was glad he came home just in time to help Della with the boys. It wasn't something he was exactly prepared for, raising kids when he knew nothing about them, but he would do anything for his sister, so he never had a second thought about it.

When the boys were born, it wasn't long before Della started growing antsy. She never had to be so responsible and be stuck at home so much, so it was clearly a difficult adjustment for her. Don grew suspicious when his twin began to act secretive, but with his full attention on the triplets, he only hoped that his sister was smart enough to think about her boys before doing something she regretted. Then one morning, he woke up and Della was gone, only a note left behind that said where she was off to. He was frustrated beyond belief, unable to help but put blame on Scrooge, who had planned to surprise her with a portal he'd learned about. Unfortunately, she sniffed out the surprise before he could even reveal it.

Of course, they assumed that Della would come back in a few days, and they could get on her case on how irresponsible she was and move on, but days turned into weeks ... and weeks turned into months ... the triplets were getting older and older, and eventually Donald had enough. He snapped, him and Uncle Scrooge breaking out into another argument about Della as he blamed him for not doing more to get her back. Donald took the triplets and they moved into his houseboat after that, not returning to Scrooge's again until the triplets accidentally set the houseboat on fire years later. Since then, things have improved between Scrooge and Donald. They always butt heads at the end of the day, but Donald is happy that they've stayed at the manor with the triplets, Webby and even Beakley. Now that the boys are grown up, Donald isn't as busy raising them, but he argues that they are still just as much of a handful as they were when they were kids. In reality, he just loves them and wants to protect them. He wasn't able to protect their mother, so in his mind, protecting them helps make up for that.

Headcanons

Donald is convinced that he is just cursed with bad luck. He literally ends up in the most bizarre situations that sometimes people just don't believe him (if they can even understand the whole story anyway). Getting on the wrong bus and ending up on the opposite end of the isle? Check. Going to get a hair trim and coming home with a buzzcut? Check. Hitting every red light coming home from a long, exhausting day? Check, check, check.

With constant bad luck comes a terrible temper. Donald has had to go to anger management and counceling for years, his speech disorder worsening when he gets panicked or angry. He also goes to a speech therapist, focusing on ennunciating his words better and not jumbling them all together. He has good and bad days with his speech, but those that are close to him tend to understand him better than strangers.

Sometimes, Donald’s bad luck eases up on him. He felt like the luckiest man alive the night of Mickey and Minnie’s wedding when he first officially met Daisy. His singing skills worked in his favor with Daisy instantly swooned, and since then she’s been the only woman Donald’s ever given his heart to. Their relationship has been far from easy, with many bumps in the road including when Della first left. Donald moved in with Mickey and Goofy for extra support with the triplets, and eventually he and Daisy randomly decided that they should get married. All of their friends were married after all, and they loved each other, so what was the harm in going to the courthouse and getting it out of the way? Despite getting married though, they still had their issues, falling on and off again for a long time. This was partly why they continued to keep the marriage a secret in the beginning.

The secret was kept for a few years, and it wasn’t until the triplets learned about Uncle Scrooge that they also learned that Donald and Daisy were husband and wife. Donald wasn't proud of how their relationship had played out, knowing it wasn't a great example for the boys who obviously needed stability and structure in their lives, but Daisy is still an aunt to them no matter what is going on between her and Donald. They’ve continued having their ups and downs since then, including a temporary split up before the recent family tragedy. They still care about each other and support each other through everything, but Daisy hasn’t returned to live back with her husband despite that she still helps with Louie and the rest of the family. Donald hopes he can be a better man for his wife and fix what’s been broken, because no matter what they’ve gone through, she’ll always be the love of his life.

Donald is majorly insecure, even if he's good at hiding it. He was always jealous of his best friend Mickey growing up and how popular and charming he always was. Donald was a hot mess compared to him, and between his speech disorder and his constant ability to get himself in insane situations, it's no wonder that he's always struggled with low self-esteem.

Despite his speech disorder, Donald is actually great at doing impressions. It's one of his very few skill sets.

He has had so many jobs over the years, never able to hold one down because of some reason or another. When he's between jobs, he'll often do random odd jobs for money like house-sitting, pet-sitting, dog-walking, or simply helping locals with their daily errands.

ISFJ

[sebbyhd]

'chasing the scent of you' self-para mentions of @hdrobby & @hdsungho ❤︎

sebastian definitely considered himself lucky to have gotten so far. he knew compared tot he other trainees, he was way out of his depth when it came to this sort of musical genre. don't get him wrong, there was always time to enjoy something more pop-like, but his goal was never to be part of a group, but rather join a band; it was during times when they would practice in front of a huge mirror to get their movements perfectly precise and aesthetically pleasing that sebastian would pause and wonder just what exactly he was doing and playing at. clearly, he was out of his mind. dancing was something he did for fun, not because he had something to prove, and most of the time during the show his hands felt empty because they weren't holding his preferred instrument, touching his guitar or his piano.

he knew that in the back of his mind he was self-sabotaging, something he did when he felt nervous, anxiety building inside of him. imposter syndrome at times. he wondered if he actually deserved to be around so many people and if he should pack his bags and go back to focusing on songwriting. it was easy to fall back onto old habits, but he had friends this time around willing to keep him afloat.

vulnerability wasn't his strong suit, but only for a few small numbered of people would he allow his facade to melt away and show exactly just how he felt.

the worst was learning japanese. singing he could do. dancing, he wasn't horrible at, nor was he the best at. he was lucky he had robby around to correct him, gentle and patient as ever, he made sure his movements connected, and he looked aesthetically pleasing while doing it– 'what do you mean i need to dance on beat and look pretty doing it?' 'just copy what i'm doing, okay?' sebastian could be as stubborn as a mule when it came to things that didn't interest him, or simply things he refused to understand, but he supposed it was never a better time than the present to get his head out of his– anyways.

he was glad that they had someone helping them with japanese. though, sebastian knew that he would never be able to learn the language within such a short amount of time, never mind actually becoming fluent, accent still present when he spoke korean, he knew that it would be hopeless, but at least he could try to assimilate it as much as he could and try to make it sound good when he sang. it helped to have sungho around, made the tension in his shoulders lax as they stumbled around foreign words, trying their best to sound good. he didn't want to toot his own horn, but he found just the right way to manipulate his voice to make his accent come off as less thick, and more smooth.

so maybe the whole thing wasn't doomed from the start.

performance day arrived sooner than later, and sebastian felt nerves creep up on him as usual, but he forced himself to stay calm and collected. he was able to get in as much practice as possible, and when it came to his parts, he was able to show off his vocal skills and dance skills confidently; voice unwavering as he sung, and movements fluid, something he never really focused on or achieved on his own, he'd have to remind himself to bake his friends a whole cake for dealing with him for the last few weeks.

no matter what the judges say, he knew he did his best, and for the first time in a long while, he felt happy and proud.